She is slower than the mirror-faced snake, and for some reason it is choosing to chase her, and she is not in dense enough forest to lose it by going up a tree or between a couple too narrowly spaced for it. So it catches her before emergency services can turn up.
And then she is somewhere else, in a not particularly attractive room next to a person who looks sort of off somehow.
"Excuse me," she says, taking a step out of his personal space.
"It's far more reasonable than not educating girls. You can exert genetic selection on a caste, you can't do that on a gender. And most people meet and marry within their caste, I don't know how your boys and girls even socialize enough to know who they want to have children with."
"They have the children's best interests at heart and aren't as immature as the children themselves."
He glances at Anaander. "She's around 20, so's Cor, Cam's not much older, Pelape reads in that range too, wouldn't hazard a guess about Mirelótë."
"Huh. I think we marry later in life than you. Certainly later in life than your women. - you could depress birth rates by pushing their marriage age back."
"People like marrying women at 20. So you get a while before they start getting less attractive with age."
"I guess we can ...keep in mind the possibility of making apparent-youth spells more common."
"Are we all just here because they're holding Cam in this cell, because under the circumstances, Cor -"
"It's not working on all my magic. I'm still indestructible, I just can't, like -" A blue beret appears on Pelape's head. "- uh."
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