"An honor circle?"
Ann had heard of the practice, but his tribe didn't participate in it. They had their own ways of proving one's strength, pride, and honor, and most often, those practices fell in line with coming of age ceremonies and milestones in a youth's life as they grew up within the tribe. But, intellectually, he knew what an honor circle was about. Two warriors met in a ring drawn out by the tribe and they fought until one party surrendered or died. Surrender was just as bad as admitting weakness, and so most often, only one warrior walked away from the honor circle. He stared at the flames for a minute before he focused on Riala, studying her for a long while. When it was clear she wasn't going to look at him, Ann returned his attention back to the flames.
"I've heard of it, yes. But I've never seen one." Ann said at last, his voice quiet. "My uncle described them once, when I was small, to me and those of my age. He made them seem... barbaric... compared to our own practices and ceremonies. But then, my tribe is far different from yours."
He didn't want to insult her. He knew that what he was saying probably sounded like an insult and would be taken as one, but he didn't know how to soften the words any more than he already had, and he didn't know what else to say. Ann was quiet for a heartbeat, before he returned his gaze to the girl and studied the lines of her body, the tenseness of her form, the sorrow in her eyes. The honor circle meant something to her, that was clear. He recognized both a subdued joy and a tempered sadness in the way she held herself, and gleaned that, perhaps to Riala, the honor circle was something more than what his uncle had described to the youngsters. To Riala, it was important.
"Is that why you're here? Because of that?" Ann asked gently, though not demanding an answer all the same, giving Riala an option of not answering by his question. Otherwise, Ann was settled in to hear her story, determined to give her all of his attention. "What happened?"