Ridahne was bristling. From the other side of the tavern, a local who had been watching the scene unfold through the corner of his eye could see Ridahne's posture, her body language, the way she moved like a snake preparing to strike. The old blacksmith was no fighter himself, but he always had dogs and had learned their body language. From that knowledge, he could see that at any minute, she was going to unleash the tempest within her, and that this man and his two friends either had to be incredibly dense or unreasonably bold. Spotting future trouble, he carefully and slowly stood, grabbing the man next to him by the sleeve. They went behind the bar and, after silently exchanging looks with the bartender, the three of them disappeared into the kitchen. It was best to not get caught up in a mess like this.

Ridahne gave a chilling laugh. Low. Cold. Mirthless. "You know nothing of Azurei." It was true. He did not, no matter how much he thought he knew. No one could know Azurei unless they had lived there as one of its own. Darkly, she said, "Then it's a good thing the apprenticeship isn't for riding." As if to explain her point, Ridahne slowly, gracefully reached behind her and pulled out one of her knives. It was not a thin, slender weapon. It had a wide blade near the end and there was a slight bend as though it had been shaped like a boomerang, only with a less steep angle. Humans called the style of blade a [I]khukri[/I]. Hers was made of folded steel, the light and dark patterns on its surface polished to a bright shine. Taking it by its dark wooden handle, she slowly and firmly pressed the tip into the wood table with a dull thunk and let it stick there, though her hand was never far away.

The lie wasn't totally fabricated. She had promised to teach Darin how to use a knife--especially after this encounter. And it was not unheard of for some humans to seek apprenticeships from the three elf tribes. But they were selective in who they took on, though there never seemed to be any pattern to what sorts of people they chose. It was whoever they wanted.

Her voice had a hard edge to it as she snarled, "No. You may not ask. Leave us alone. It's your last warning." And she meant it. Darin spoke and Ridahne saw her opportunity. She couldn't just hack at the man unprovoked (even though she felt very provoked at the moment) or she'd risk getting them both arrested. No, Ridahne knew her limits. She needed him to give her a reason, and pursuit was reason enough to defend herself or Darin. Ridahne held up one long, elegant finger. "Martin," she said smoothly, though she never took her eyes off this...'Mark' person. "You have training this evening. In Azurei we do not wield a blade while intoxicated. Drink no more. Go and see to my horse. His mane needs brushing." This was not true at all, as she'd threatened the stable boy into lavishing the animal with good care and attention. But Ridahne wanted to remove her from the scene. And if they attempted to close in, not only would it give Darin a chance to escape, but it would give Ridahne reason to kill. She just needed a reason. 

As Darin stood, Ridahne decided to apply a little pressure. Enough dancing around the subject. "Seeing that you haven't left, I assume you want something," she snarled to the three of them. "Out with it." Ridahne stood, plucking her knife from the table and letting it rest in her hand like the limb had no other purpose but to hold that blade. It was part of her.  "What do you want?"