There was nothing he would gain from killing someone so much weaker than him. It would be like trying to boast about chasing off a decrepid dog when it was doing nothing mroe than chasing chickens. It wasn't often you would find a woman or a child in the middle of the action, either.. and Clayton tended to shy away from the taking of cities and towns. He would have told her, had she challenged him with such a question.
His head droops forward dramatically, bouncing a couple of times, "Ugh.. Clayton. Please call me Clayton. Or Clay, or hey you. Anything but Messa Thayer." He points into the air, finger shaking, "Aha.. I do, as it just so happens, know how to sew, Gloria. I've made many quilts, sewed even more drapes and clothing. Does that surprise you?" His head tilts and he watches her, "I have amazing taste in fabric and colors." He does, too. Ask around.
Not a drunk, necessarily, but he likes his brandy. He likes to talk and the drink makes it more fun, easier. At least it usually does. "I don't imagine they are. You were expecting, what? For me to wish for a beautiful house on a beautiful patch of land where I would have a beautiful wife and beautiful children and beautiful pets and build beautiful things for people?" That's what most people expected him to want for. His head shakes and he pushes his glass away, dropping his coins on the counter for what has been poured for him.
"I had those things. They don't last. And now? I am a realist." He gives a flourish of his hand, presenting the information to her with a grin. A flair for the dramatic.. what a pair they are.
If only he knew.. If only he knew the girl was under the impression of something poured into her drink.. he wouldn't ask her such things. He probably would not still be sitting here. What a horrible twist of fate that it was him her eyes landed on that night. Anyone else.. anyone else here would have been better for her to have odd feelings about than him. Ask around.
After hearing what she wants.. he should ask something like why or who in the world is Rhaena Olwak. But no. Why would he ask the logical questions when instead he can offer, "Then, why don't you? What is stopping you, with your willingness to scrap?"
She had saved the life of a Councilman.
She could clobber most men in a contest of muscles.
She survived Jernoah, and not by mere subsistence.
But she wouldn't do these things she wanted to do?