Talin is not easy to goad; he wouldn't be here if he was. There's a place among the Wolf's people for even the hottest-headed rebels, but it isn't in the middle of the enemy's camp. He was chosen for this assignment for his ability to shoulder the disrespect of the shemlen without reacting, to act friendly with them even when they talk down on him, his culture, his People, and his ancestors.

His ear flicks, annoyed and involuntary, at the shemlen's insouciance, but he rises from the statue with no hint of ire.

"You'd have thought my ancestors would craft their art to last."

The reflexive twinge of guilt at disrespecting the Creators has lessened over the years; the shame of disrespecting his ancestors never has. Talin hums a prayer of apology under his breath, and walks back toward the group.