<<So what, I should trust Ossanlin because you trust your brother, who got me piss-ass drunk by the way, and who also happens to trust Captain Grass-eater?>> Terenia laughs incredulously. <<Is this how the rebellion always works?>>
She swishes her palps irritably, launching into a further rant before he can answer. <<Trust is kind of hard to come by in this war, in case you hadn't noticed. It isn't something I do easily, so tell me why I should trust you, let alone Myitt or Ossanlin.>>
Terenia decides not to mention the fact that she already does, remaining obstinate to the end.
"Right," Zorish nods, setting his drink down with deliberateness. "Because you have some sort of romantic fascination with her, right? At least, that's what the young Andalite warrior said." He tilts his head slightly, tossing Tamora's blonde hair over her shoulder and pouting her lips. "If you don't want to give me information about the Yeerk-girl, fair enough. I am sure I can wheedle it out of others here if I tried hard enough, but frankly, I am tired of the games that are played at this bar, and I am not yet ready to return to my duties." He smirks. "The life of a Sub-Visser isn't always quite as grand as one may think."
Lifting the glass of scotch to his lips again he pauses before taking a sip, eying Mike over the rim. "So if you won't tell me about Terenia, tell me about yourself, Michael Leicester. Or, better yet, tell me about the traitor that you so easily accept into your mind." He inches Tamora's body imperceptably closer to him.