Larke knew that scream. 

The last time he had heard that specific cry, he was promptly bodychecked off of a low balcony into a hedge of honeysuckle. And before that, he turned to find a chair flying toward his person. Generally speaking, it was a sound that translated to "run, perhaps?" 

[color=#336699][b]"Move!"[/b][/color] Larke yelled at Serenity and Canvas, though between the two of them and the table, Larke had little option to dodge before being struck full-on by at least 200 pounds of Norweigian anger. Delightful. 

It was not, he thought in the split second before his face smacked into the breakfast table, unlike what he imagined being body-slammed by a bear would be. At least there was no open window. 

[color=#336699][b]"Good morning, Miss Norrevinter,"[/b][/color] he replied, his chipper smile falling into a half-smushed grimace where it was pressed into the wood. [color=#336699][b]"Good of you to join us for breakfast,"[/b][/color] He pushed up a bit, testing her weight and strength. She was too big to buck off. 

[color=#336699][b]"But, you know."[/b][/color] The juice in Larke's glass flew upwards to splash against his attacker's face, just as Larke arched to free himself again. His right foot hooked back around her grounded leg and yanked in against her ankle to topple her balance. When she moved to catch herself, he twisted free and pushed back to stand with his back toward the open room, rather than the table. The contents of a breakfast pitcher flew into one of his hands and hovered there in a tensioned orb of iced water. [color=#336699][b]"Sorry, about the spill. I can wash it off, if you like?"[/b][/color] He rolled his shoulders back, looking as self-assured and unruffled as ever.

Or, rather, as as self-assured and unruffled as someone could look after crashing into the table. 

[color=#336699][b]"Probably best to clean up before your aunt finds out you've been throwing yourself at me."[/b][/color]

[@vitofthevoid]