[center][img]https://fontmeme.net/permalink/190420/e0511f2991ca6e87c6cf1945988363cb.png[/img][/center] As soon as Lorcan heard the glass shatter he sprang from his seat, leaving his half eaten breakfast mostly left to defend itself from an unidentified projectile as he reached into the realms and back to his dorm. In a flash of red light he felt the familiar weights of his saber enter his hand and Warin on his shoulder, the confused little psuedodragon hissing upon its emergency entry. [color=69DCAC][i]”An attack here?”[/i][/color] he thought, his mind whirling away at which of the neighboring countries were both well equipped enough (and stupid enough) to attack L'Mordryn. A few of the students had jumped at the sound, but most were fixing him with queer looks before returning to their meals, seemingly unsurprised by the chaos and wonton destruction of their dining hall. Looking down at the decimated table the previously hardened edge of readiness shattered against the one thing that consistently did so. Isobel sat up from his food, or at least where his food HAD been, as if she hadn't just been hurled bodily through a window. Bits of glass and food sliding off her bronzed skin, a little winded but thankfully (he noted) otherwise unharmed and greeted him and his prey...friend. Friend. With the twin realizations that this wasn't an attack and that Isobel was safe now firmly in hand Lorcan's stand relaxed a little...Right before he noticed Isobel's clothes. Or lack there of. His voice failed him as he caught an eyefull of his 'cousins' figure as she turned back to her assailant; finely toned back muscles under chocolate skin shining warmly as they moved and drew his eye down her frame to the rather generous peppering of yogurt on the small of her back. His imagination went wild with the image, his brain awash with fantasies he knew to be objectively wrong that both upset him and warmed his face to a crimson shade that Rutul would be jealous of. He was still standing as Isobel turned back to the two young men, taking a seat casually, Lorcan's face flushed to its zenith and eyes desperately flitting between spots across her figure as he attempted to lock onto something that DIDN'T send his brain into histrionics before finally settling on her eyes. [color=69DCAC]"I'z butt her what now?"[/color] He asked smartly, voice cracking a little as he began to reclaim his normal composure. Warin spares a moment to stare confusedly at his master, the little psuedodragon now just as lost as his host. Deciding his master was clearly in need of a hard reset the little monster carefully nipped at Lorcans ear. The mild pinch was enough, Lorcan reaching up and half heartedly swatting away the diminutive jaws as his brain returned to him. [color=69DCAC]"Ahem..."[/color] He tried again, this time more coherently. [color=69DCAC]"Good morning Isobel. Two questions. Firstly, the fuck."[/color] He says, gesturing to the crash site and the pouting dragon licking its wounds outside. [color=69DCAC]"Secondly...w...why are you half naked?"[/color] He asked, using all his willpower not to look down at her bust, still slick with sweat and heaving evenly with her deep breaths. Ok, so maybe he failed not to look. But only for a moment or two.