It did not matter to you that she was a destroyer, with enough power to sear ten armies into ash in the blink of an eye. To your sight, she is still a creature to be pitied: perhaps she might change and start over?
As you bring her into your humble adobe, you show her a trove of corn and roasted chicken for a dinner. She heartily bites the cobs and the meat, and turns to you.
“Thanks for the corn,” she smiles. “Do you know the way home?”