The bitterness of her situation burned until it left her with little but resentment and a sort of violent depression that had no outlet save Starfall. To say that she was unkind to him was not quite truthful - she was merely infuriated by her circumstances. It is a wonder, in truth, that he felt any pity for her considering her past. Considering the warning he had given her and yet the image of him snarling pops up into her mind often. The way his handsome face had looked as hard as iron, his teeth as sharp as steel, as he threatened and raged and protected. Truth be told, she found it rather attractive, but such feelings were stumped whenever she felt the pain in her body escalate. The poppy that she was given in those times helped knock her out, helped her swim away from that sea of fury and despair and into a dreamscape.

Did that make her a Dreamwalker now?

There is a soft sort of gentleness that hands about Zelda but also an aura of regality. It isn't the same regalness that Arace carries, her grace always poised on the edge of violence and wickedness. Zelda's is more of a fair kingdom, of a princess turned to Queen, of all those beautiful stories told in puphood. Arace wasn't sure whether she admired or hated this Queen who would condemn her to a pit then save her life. Foolish or smart, she had yet to work out what the Queen gained from this. Because that was what life was - a series of checks and balances. Debts incurred and debts paid. It made her eyes focus with suspicion upon the face as Zelda ASKS her if she can come in.

Arace makes a slight tsking noise, almost a scoff, but a sort of sly smile edges her muzzle. "Do as you please, Savior-Queen. I am in your debt, I suppose. A life debt to a Queen. How poetic. I suppose that makes me a truely worthless assassin." Again, her voice turns self deprecating; it is a vast twist from her usual confidence, her arrogance finding an outlet. She had failed epicly since arriving in Molodian and she recognized that. Her previous alphess would have killed her, if she knew, and Arace would have allowed it because her honor demanded it. "But by all means, water sounds fine," she adds, her raspy voice heaving with a sigh. Then a pause before... "Thank you."

It makes her teeth clench to have to thank this girl but she is not without manners, when needed. Arace had come here as an actress and now was laid bare before them, a broken, useless thing. They could end her in a moment if they wished it and despite her internal fury, the survivor in her wouldn't go down without a fight.

The Queen enters only to seat herself at the edge of the den, so.... thoughtful. Appropriate. It further drove home her original perception of the Queen. Her heart was light and golden, not winding and filled with shadows like Arace, who lifted her tapered muzzle to focus upon the female. Winter had set in and her fur, spotted with healing and wounds, had thickened. The sienna that dotted her muzzle seemed brighter in the winter, overshadowing the black and the white, but her bottom half was always pristine in the winter. Now, though, she looked as she felt; disgusting. The fur had been cleaned only minimally due to the healing everywhere and was growing oily and stained with dirt from the den floor. She hated it.

Not a prisoner? She blinks at the words, slowly, considerately, while listening to Zelda talk. Her face has grown expressionless, that sly smile having disappeared. "I haven't done anything else," she suddenly interjects. Besides the whole Sleekwing incident but she didn't count that since it was well before any of this had happened. Not that she outright admitted to Eleanor's death - even to Pine. "I do not understand you." Clear cynicism in her eyes, her voice, as she peers at Zelda. "I came into this pack, attacked one of your own, and yet now you seek to offer me guard and care. In the eyes of Iromar, I have been condemned. I always thought you pack wolves stuck together on such things." There is poison in her words, ears folding back slightly. Arace was a mess and yet her movements are still graceful, elegant in nature as she lifts her head.

Her eyes harden at the words of Zelda and there is silence before she looses a slow breath. "You may think me a common murderer, a knave, a miscreant, but I am bound by codes as surely as you are. Codes that I have given my entire life, entire being to. It would dishonor me to reveal my own life debts to you. Suffice it to say that I have paid my weight in blood for one of those debts. I cannot tell you, I will not. But I owe you and for that I will give you my word, as fickle as you might think it. I will not harm any here in your pack nor will I cause you undue problems in my time of healing. And one day, when you have need, I will repay the debt I owe you."