Locke was drunk. Had to be. Not that he and inebriation were familiar with each other beyond a handshake or two. But good gods it was close as he had ever come to her euphoric state sober. And he was just getting started.
Wandering the outer edge of stalls and tents the youth let himself slip among the crowd, continuing to drink his fill of the avarice, sights, lights, and noise. If ever he stole anything worth selling he now knew where to bring it to fence. Vendors shouted the superiority of their wears, and occasionally the bastardy of their neighbor, as they vied for the attention of the crowd above the music, and sounds of a city. A city! While the cold was chilling the boy enough to keep out any associations this place may have with the term home, the night life here was keeping his blood pumping strong. A mistress will keep your bed warm just as well as a wife after all, she was just temporary.
BAM. A drafty chestnut collided with the boy’s shoulder in the throes of his drinking, jolting him from his lullaby, and jostling the brutes a packages. Shit, thought the youth, he was huge. Course, Locke thinner frame only magnified how much shit he might be in if the brute was the angry type. And he was. Angry horned head came sweeping around on the youth, but Locke didn’t spin away, yet. “Apologies sir-” But the beast was already roaring curses at him. To be fair though most creatures were beasts to the tall lean youth. Head ducked, something glimmered at the red’s side, and now the boy moved off. “Now sir-!” But the brute followed and drowned out the palo’s protests. His eyes burned with such passionate annoyance they missed the small coin slid from its hiding place under the boy’s stomach, slipping without conscious glance to the leather satchel strapped to the colt’s far leg.
“Look, sir, here. Here- to make amends.” Turning to view his satchel the young bastard called out from it a familiar gold coin. The aggression dulled on the face of the brute, but the threat did not. His own will snatched the coin from Locke. Money makes a creature mirthful. He doesn’t have to know its his own money. Examining the coin with a hard eye the brute gave a sneer that was half hearted, and the young youth’s apologetic smile was whitewashed. Yet the red brute turned and continued storming down the walk. The fiery youth watched him go, the meek childish grin twisting into a smirk the Cheshire Cat would envy. Never was a thief more pleased than to watch a mark walk away satisfied. He could have kept the coin of course. Been a penny wealthier for the cost of a few more insults to his genealogy. But then where would the fun have been in seeing the beast buy himself off with his own coin. The feeling was akin to having someone running a warm touch down the spine of his feathers. His pride never knew such a feast of ego.
Locke let himself have one more soft chuckle before raising his head back to the busy street. The noise and crowds grew heavier up the cobbled walkway. And like ordering another round for the whole bar, the young thief moved to rejoin the mass of marks in the center of the street.
OOC:: @
