@Kassandra
B
arley is no fool, but he's no fighter, either, not the way Beech is, always ready to defend against large and small with bristling whiskers and those sharp yellow teeth. But Beech is still missing, and if there is anything drifting across the telepathic bond the four share, none of them give him away, not a single whisker twitches, no ear or eye turns to find him. When Oculos charges ahead, Barley leaps back, his tail spinning like a boat's propeller and his legs splayed wide, graceless, until they catch Rivane's long tail in its upswing and he scurries back to the bag at her hip where Breadnut grumbles his I told you so's.Rivane grunts softly when she crashes into the wall of Kassandra, but she recovers quickly, her breath hissing through narrowed nostrils while the roan scolds; she does not think that either stallion looks very impressed, or very sorry. Teeth bare, a hint of threat that dissolves partly when she hears herself called 'friend' because her ears lift away from her neck and her red eyes turn startled, but the menace returns three-fold. Her tail flicks out at them, and the bay is close enough that those four wicked steel claws grasp the edges of his tattered traveler's cloak. Startled, he leaps away with his bereft staff and the decency to almost appear cowed. He edges away as if to disappear into the shadows between bonfire and bar, and Rivane's gaze turns away from him to the second stallion that leers at the pair of them.
"Ah, is that so?" The painted stallion draws up too close, emboldened by the ale that sours his breath, and Rivane knows immediately where he's headed, the silent suggestion of it makes her low-snaked head pull up. She is vaguely aware of Oculus' growling, and of the weight of Kassandra's neck across her back, but her attention focuses wholly on the painted stallion's scarred coat. She's met more than her share of his sort in other lands, at other bars, but losing the creeps once they've set their sights on you is not always easy. She struggles for a moment with what to do, unwilling to capitulate, and unwilling to start a brawl she's likely to lose, but in that pause, she's already missed her chance to control the situation. The stallion's grin widens, victorious.
"Well, I'd love to have a good time with you and Ears, here," he laughs, turning from the livid Rivane to the roan's ever-so-slightly unsteady gaze with a too-sly grin. "Whaddaya say?"
