Ghent didn't quite follow the next series of events. Wasn't it a good thing that the shadow was running [i]from[/i] them rather than after them? Apparently not, because the tension became high, similar to when they'd been in the storage room. Unlike the before, Ghent didn't mouth off.
	Shifting his weight to his other foot, Ghent kept a mental count of how many times Drust twitched. Did he twitch all the time? Or did he only twitch when angered? If the latter, this could be a way read the knight in order to get an idea of his temperament. Then again, maybe Drust was [i]always [/i]angry. Ghent had known him for the better part of two hours, and he couldn't[i] begin[/i] to envision the man in good spirits.
	Privately amazed by the man's condition, Ghent kept his trap shut. Voicing any questions or concerns wouldn't have been wise, and he'd made himself look like enough of an idiot for one day.
	The topic changed, and Ghent wanted to sink into the concrete when Elayra requested the chance to speak with him. Hopefully a lecture wasn't coming.
The blond knew him well enough to raise a sword to ward off any comments that would have come, and Ghent eyed the weapon with reluctance. Blood from the shadowmire brought color to the steel and took color from his face.
	[i][b]First off.[/b] 
[/i]
	Ghent inwardly cringed. Any discussion beginning with 'first off' was a telltale sign of something bad. It didn't matter if this came from a teacher, parent, or a princess. 'First off' was [i]never[/i] promising.
	Arms folded, Ghent listened, feeling similar to a child in the principal's office. "Oh, so I'm a component now?" He wasn't sure how to feel about this. Aside from his mother and Mrs. Saxon, Ghent had never been so put in his place by a female before. "I thought I had twenty-four hours to decide!" 
	More than ever before, Ghent saw that their worlds were too different. Accepting this was accepting a death sentence. He wasn't good enough to take down a single shadowmire, much less a sorceress. If by some miracle Ghent had magic, he already doubted his abilities. 
	Frustrated by his own failures, he used the back of his hand to push the sword away if he could. "I'll help you and Drust while you're here...but until then...I'll save you some time. I'm no longer interested." Ghent brushed past her, his intentions to retrieve his phone and check the room for any damages. 
	"If you want a hero, ask my old man." Bitterness laced the words, though this wasn't directed at Elayra. Ghent found himself feeling angry at the father he'd no recollection of. "Apparently he's really something."