Though the brave shouldn't shrink from danger, only a fool would be unresponsive to sharp teeth that shouldn't even belong to a human being. The prince realized something was up- the practice of sharpening teeth was lost when the Casseions fell. It was a strange and horrid thing to do in the opinion of most nobles and general populace alike. Cyrus, however, thought it would be kind of cool. How would they clean their teeth? 

He raised a hand to his head and slipped off his silk hat, making him look a bit older and much more practical. The tattoo, or the 'Tree of Hours' was the symbol of the Casseion clan. Though they couldn't be sure, the kingdom's historians believed the tree to represent the passage of time and the futility of cheating the fates. It was a sign used in dark alchemy. 

His grip on his cap loosened and it fell to the sand as he heard what Rulan said. "No... you... can't be serious...." He seemed dazed, too dazed to process anger. Now that his cap was off, it was easier to see the fiery, tiny, stat-shaped jewel the prince wore on his right ear as an earring. 

After a few moments, he regained his composure. Why didn't he realize the feather was trouble? It was tucked safely in his robes, and he made sure it was secure. "Rulan... why? What have you done...?" How could he go back to the palace with a sharp fanged Casseion??