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Tenacinde Modareno Outskirts

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Servine forced her brightest smile.

"I'm, um, j-just uhhh."

Unable to invent a deception, or recall any prepared line, she instead let out the truth (and a sheepish sigh).

"...My name is Isabella. I am the daughter of Don Rodrigo. Please don't send me back."

Looking Isabella up and down, Blue would likely consider this a plausible claim – while the serpent was partly concealed by a modest head covering and dark cloak, beneath these garments she was wearing very fine silks and not a few items of jewellery. Given they fit her unusual shape specifically, she was almost certainly, at the very least, from a rich family.
 
Don't... send her back? Why would they— wait. Did she think they were real? Should he act like they were real? Would it have killed that god damn zorrogato to explain the entirety of her god damn plan? To literally anybody, apparently?

"Howsabout you tell us what exactly you're doin' in there first," he settled on. Something either an actual guard or a deeply, deeply confused friend of the revolution might say; worked either way. Get some more details out of her and, while she was talking, some time to figure out what the hell was going on.
 
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