EVERY SCAR WILL BUILD MY THRONE // joining

[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]Loyalty. There's a reason she finds it hard to trust others. It is hearing words such as this that unravels her discomforts. While she appreciates the honesty, there is a cold air that leaves her skin, expression unreadable. Ruthless, merciless. She doubts The Pitt can be those two qualities all the time. They were rather forgiving of her trespassing, not particularly barbaric so far. Maybe it is Pan who is misinformed. "I trust you," she says without a second thought, not daring to glance at Stryker for his reaction. To be honest, she wonders if he is the type to humiliate her for her words. She wouldn't like that. It would make her ears grow hot and cause her to wish she'd perish on the spot, melt and seep into the sands from embarrassment. The serval, however, knows that she is only being polite to the newly joined male - she doesn't trust him at all. She trusts him as much as she trusts another Pittian. "My name's Pan," the girl then adds, squinting a little in amusement, "Like a frying pan except I don't fry things." She does the opposite, actually.