Silhainlé had sense the ambush a moment before it had happened, but it hadn't given him enough time to react. He would have blamed the false sense of security being with the group had given him, but his mind was too geared into a primitive fight or flight. His legs kicked wildly as he was pulled to stand unnaturally on his feet. From that position there was little he could do but wrestle in vain against his captor. By the sounds he was picking up through the thick, scratchy material of the bag, it sounded as if the whole group of them had been abducted so. His heart was thundering distressingly loudly in his ears, the panic rising quickly in his throat. He could do little to fight back while being forced to walk on his toes, it was near impossible to get off a good kick like this.

Even once they were escorted inside and it was all revealed to be nothing but some kind of joke among friends he found that he was not much calmed by the revelation. He failed to see how such rough treatment could be considered a joke. It was this kind of behaviour that he failed to understand about the humans. They seemed to enjoy scaring each other at times, which seemed so strange to him, being from a society who shared blood with prey animals. He could still feel his heart pounding, his instincts keeping him on high alert.

A glass flagon of ale was shoved into his hands, the cold and the spill of beverage was a surprising sensation on his warm palms. He almost dropped it in surprise, but managed not to make that mistake. He paused for a moment before placing it on the nearest, stable surface.

“I... would rather not, thank you friends.” He said, trying to be polite. He had tried such a drink before, and found the taste to be far too strong and burning on his taste buds. Lessir did not have such things, they would have eaten the crops than have them ferment into this... strange liquid. He struggled to see the appeal.

While the rest continued their merriment Silhainlé backed off a little. He found himself torn, for he both wanted to bond with his fellow Guards, but did not want to be subjected to the foul taste of their beverages, or the sting of their drunken tongues for that matter. He crouched and curled in on himself, bringing his arm tight near his body. The cramped space and the loud chatter and the strong smell was causing him sensory overload. He decided it would be best to leave and, spotting someone else exiting through the door, scampered out to.

The night air was as clogged with city scents as ever, but it certainly beat being inside the pub. As he looked around he soon noticed the small group that was forming by the wall. He hesitated, unsure whether to join them or to just return to the barracks. His foot twitched nervously, patting the ground below. He was still a little catious around people.