[center][H1][color=#f46b42]R [/color][color=#f17a57]Y [/color][color=#ee896b]L [/color][color=#f69071]A [/color][color=#fd9677]N   [/color][color=#fbb5a0]T [/color][color=#fca68c]W [/color][color=#fd9677]Y [/color][color=#f69071]F [/color][color=#ee896b]O [/color][color=#f17a57]R [/color][color=#f46b42]D [/color][/H1][/center]
[right][color=#ae9c9c][i][b]Durand Aviary[/b]
Night
Interacting with[/i] [@ambra], [@vietmyke][/color][/right]
[color=silver]

If there were signs heralding Tristan’s outburst, Rylan was ignorant of them all.

By the time he noticed the other’s intentions, it was entirely too late. He felt a sudden, powerful yank - and the next he knew, he was staring up into eyes ablaze with fury. Rylan stiffened like a cat cornered, ready to lash out at the sudden threat before it lashed at him. [i]Sword[/i]. Tristan, this [i]mad fool[/i], had brandished a sword earlier. It only took one angry swing, and--

Instinct brought the thief’s hand to the hilt of his hidden dagger - but reason kept him from unsheathing it. No. If he pulled out a blade first, he would do naught but seal his fate. It wouldn’t matter if he was faster. It wouldn’t matter if it was self-defense. He’d be an armed thief, and there was no man in the realm that did not hold contempt towards those. It’d be a race to see which pointy weapon impaled him first. 

And then, the other let go.

Rylan had been leaning so far back from the man’s anger that he nearly [i]fell on his ass[/i] the second he regained control of his body. He stumbled backwards, trying to put as much distance between himself and the absolute madman as he could - without catching the ire of the [i]other [/i]madman armed with a crossbow. 

Because heaven forbid someone [i]not [/i]want to kill him tonight.

Tristan launched into some sort of a spiel about saving the world once more, but Rylan only caught half of it. He was still half-deaf from the gush of blood and adrenaline in his ears. 

He caught the gist of it, though. And while the other wasn’t wrong about the state of affairs he described, Rylan quickly realized that he and this bastard had quite a different set of values. He, for one, would much rather die with his cock in a whore and mind in blissful stupor than playing hero in some distant land.

Of course, he’d much rather not die at all.

Not that he was willing to say any of that out loud. He rather liked his tongue where it was.

Rylan could not say he was surprised when the Durand boy offered the noble a place for the night when asked - though he [i]was [/i]taken aback by the sleeping arrangements. The boy had a sense of humour. 

The scoundrel found himself grinning despite himself. The thought of this infuriating bastard having to sleep among the stryxes made him feel like there was justice in the world yet.

[color=lightblue]"You too.”[/color]

... Or not. 

[color=#ee896b] “[i]With[/i]--” [/color]Rylan blurted before he could catch himself, one finger jabbed in Tristan’s general direction. [i]With that guy,[/i] he continued soundlessly, hoping his glare conveyed his sentiments well enough. Whether it did or not, it made no matter. The Durand boy bid them good night, and left his little pet to see to it that they did as they were told.

Rylan shot the noble the nastiest glare he could muster, then stuck to Greytail’s side as they made for inside. Between the beast of a bird and the drunken bastard, he found the latter a much bigger danger. Who knew when he’d fly into another fit of rage and make true his threats. No, tonight, he would stick to the bird’s side like a sailor stuck to a pint of ale.

Guess he would finally find out whether stryx feathers were soft or not.[/color]