"Aint' gonna loose no tooth," he scoffed, though he put the knife away. "Vequaniel, Isfahan, we all know I wouldn't look nearly as good in a dress as you..." He gave a twirl, and mid twirl he changed his shape to a feminized version of himself with gaudy makeup and a similar looking dress to Vequaniel's. He frowned down at the fabric, which had been enchanted to change shape with him. "That's a lot of pleats to get blood out of...not sure it works for me." He chuckled and shifted back to his natural shape--blonde curls unkempt in a messy bun, and wearing dark pants and a dark vest over a loose, ashy-gray shirt. 

"Blech," Rohaan said mockingly in response to their uppish affectation. It was good, and very convincing, but Rohaan never liked it. Too good, he always said. His love was for the seedy, underappreciated folk of the world, and he resented most of the upper-crust of society. They had only ever burned him. Shifters were unwelcome in society--even amongst the lowbrow folks--and the rich folks made laws that shifters could neither buy nor sell in polite society in order to keep them away. It usually worked, and the Vokurian people preferred to keep to themselves anyway. But for Rohaan, who had been separated from his people for twenty years and had been forced into human society, it left him no other choice but to pursue a life of crime. He did it with gusto. And while the rich and the powerful knew of him as a notorious villain, but the low, downtrodden, and outcast of society knew him as a champion of the neglected. Both he and Vequaniel had a heart for urchins and beggars. 

He was about to get into the carriage's driver's seat when Berlin stopped him. His big hand gently caught the shifter's arm. "Rheoaan, lad." he looked him straight in the eyes; Berlin's were cool and comforting and vast as the sea. "You protect them, you hear?" Vequaniel did not often need protecting, but their abilities favored avoiding a fight rather than winning one already started. That's where Rohaan came in. He usually started fights, but he always finished them. And anyone who thought they could do harm to Vequaniel discovered all too quickly that they'd need to deal with Rohaan, first. 
"Aye. I will." 
"And give every last one of those rich bastards hell."
Rohaan grinned. "Aye, Ca-mm." Rohaan's native language did not have a 'p' sound, so when he first met Berlin, he heard crewmates call him 'Cap'n', and his 8 year old mind managed a very pronounced, 'Ca-mm'. It stuck. 

Berlin hugged him and watched as the shifter climbed up into the driver's seat. Rohaan made sure Vequaniel was inside and flicked the reins; the animal, now less afraid of Rohaan, dutifully trotted off towards the road. 

"You know, V, they're gonna know who I am. I got me a very...infamous face. And frankly? I want them to. I want them to lie awake at night wondering how Rheoaan Rohaan Rio Ja'aisen managed to make his way into court. I want them to hate it and be absolutely powerless to change it." He cackled. "Can you manage that, you think?"