[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Woods North of Salarn, Orc Encampment, Evening of Day Three [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With: [/color] Sana, vigorously. [/center][/b][hr][hr]

	Keystone was certain, [i]dead certain[/i] that he was going to render the chattering mage unconscious and they could go about their earnest discussion concerning Orcs, Undead, and Supper, not necessarily listed in order of importance. A moment of quiet, gurgling struggle on behalf of the robe wearing loudmouth, and then Keystone had to decide for himself whether he was vindictive enough to keep the hold applied until the younger man involuntarily soiled himself. 

	And then Sana happened. 

	Sana "happening" tended to occur in boldly unpredictable ways, he'd found out some time ago. While friendly(ish), she'd always seemed fairly physically standoffish to him, at least in any amorous sense. Sure, he'd witnessed her break the nose of a man who had propositioned her (to be honest, he may have deserved it), and told off others in manners angry and cutting, so he hadn't even put much thought in pursuance of any kind. Yet there she was, pressing her face against his and knocking his target toward the fire. 

	It was more action than he had gotten in a while, certainly farther than he had gotten with the bar server three days prior. So long as he was in this position, he may as well go with it. Besides, this wasn't some alcohol drenched tart he was trying to temporarily befriend for an hour or so of coital diversion, this was a person he had some genuine respect for. 

	[i][color=b8860b]"In for a penny..."[/color][/i] Keystone silently advised himself. He wrapped one arm around the oft brutal Archer, pulling her in closer for more solid contact, going as far as to dip her as he pressed his lips against hers, in front of the firelight and surrounded by Orcs. This was something to write about later for his memoirs. 

	In said memoirs, the part he likely wouldn't record for posterity was when he extended his other, free hand to Thomas; two fingers raised in an insulting gesture. 

	He lingered, probably longer than was polite on that kiss, then raised Sana back up. [color=b8860b]"[i]Completely[/i] worth the trip, love."[/color] he said in a low, quieter voice. The tone had a hint of joviality in it, but not sarcasm. [color=b8860b]"Lovely work with the pointy-hat, by the by."[/color] he continued, and then winked (Keystone [i]winked[/i]!), returning to his seat by the fire. He gave ample room next to himself if Sana wished to return to her earlier spot. 

	The oddly stricken pugilist fumbled to retrieve his plate from where he had dropped it. With a second or two of thought, he reached over to the plate he had set aside for Thomas, and unceremoniously plopped the contents onto his own. Symbolic, mostly, of his annoyance with the young man, as there was still plenty they needed to go through in the pans about the fire. 

	[color=b8860b]"Right, then. We comin' to a decision, or we giving it a wait till morning? Otherwise, we got to talk Dead Folks."[/color] His underclass accent, even his demeanor, seemed strangely more relaxed in that moment. He gave a glance up to Sana, opting to hear any input from the woman.