Acton watched with interest as their grizzled Warden climbed the dias, noting with amusement that there was no intoxicated wobble to his steps. Maybe that had something to do with his familiar, a fierce-looking creature that stuck to him like a shadow.
At the words Rosti issued the buckskin huffed a laugh, casting his gaze around the courtyard to see who might respond. There were fewer than he’d expected: a motley crew, really, until the gypsy-girl stepped forward like a summer storm cloud. He watched Aislinn approach with quiet admiration; they weren’t terribly similar (she seemed to have an unfortunate set of restrictive morals) but she was one of them and by no means delicate, even if she had been half-plucked by a Day court stallion.
He was not at all surprised to see their king follow suit; Reichenbach was a man of many passions, and loathe to miss out on a one of them. As the big man climbed the steps, Acton followed behind.
“Good to see you back among the living, Ash,” he said with an impish wink, then turned to his king and dropped his muzzle in a nod. By the time he got to Rostislav, he was grinning, half-wondering if the Warden would remember him this time around. He supposed it wasn’t totally the stallion’s drinking to blame; Acton had made a point to stay scarce among the more respectable sides of court life.
“I’m no soldier,” he said, “but I am a bastard. And I can’t turn down a chance at being rewarded for a brawl.”
Besides, Raum had wagered him a hefty bag of shekels that he would come out on the losing end of things, and Acton could never resist a bet.
Even if it meant getting his ass kicked in the process.
@Rostislav @Aislinn @Reichenbach not a warrior, just a cad, but wanted to help with the numbers
these violent delights have violent ends
