[center][h2][color=#FF7800]Boraro[/color]
Camp Hannula, Raven’s Rock common room[/h2][/center][hr]He greeted the assembly politely before taking a seat, a familiar face joining him almost instantly. Ebrima agreed it made sense to get the knife in the room out of the way quickly, scoffing at the mention of ‘a trophy’. Perhaps that perception was part of the issue, on top of the near-religious significance the kukri held to the Ghurkas of course. To Ebrima, it wasn’t a trophy, it was a tool first and foremost. A trophy was something that hung on a wall, not combat armor’s utility belt. Not that he planned on returning it either way, not before he died or retired, whichever came first. But at least he got a name out of the exchange, somewhere to have it delivered when that day came, assuming Purna wouldn’t simply walk into the armory and take it from his weapons locker without anyone being wiser to it. It was nearly impossible to keep something safe from infiltrators. Infiltrators and taxmen. He drew the line at the condescending shoulder pat, intercepting it with his hand. The pocket psycho would need a bit of a cold shower. Ebrima knew it was unwise to provoke a snake with your bare foot, but the two giants in the room were a reassuring presence. Even though their allegiance to Raven was still somewhat questionable, and he was still an outsider even to that, he couldn’t see a mentally level person standing by if someone else got attacked over the possession of an item. That being said, there was [i]one[/i] giant in the room he couldn’t see stand by if someone got attacked over the possession of an item.

He was about to respond when the [i]other[/i] giant seemingly forgot she was a giant. Ebrima waited for Purna to resituate himself and pick up his dignity before speaking. [color=#FF7800]”The story. It should be said.”[/color] He spoke in a serious voice bereft of the usual mirthful subtone as he accepted the chocolate with a nod of appreciation, but did not whisper as Purna had. Like when negotiating a contract, he aimed for transparency. [color=#FF7800]”Sometimes when you put things off for later, you don’t get a chance to do them at all. So, the full story:”[/color] He said with the air of bitter experience with unfinished business, turning to look Purna directly in the eyes with a switch back to his earlier deadpan delivery. [color=#FF7800]”I lived, he died. And if he didn’t want his equipment salvaged, he should’ve left it at home. Such is life.”[/color] Ebrima let Purna believe his friend fought valiantly, no doubt in his mind he would have if given the chance, which is why he didn’t offer that courtesy. Half a squad of Burmese rebels for bait, several 5,45x39-sized ventilation ports in Sergeant Rai’s back and that was all she wrote. Ebrima was on thin enough ice already, no point taking a sledgehammer to it by provoking Purna even more than he was as is by simply existing.

He listened to Sam speak her piece, offering an appreciative nod and a smile. Self-reflection was something he’d had to figuratively - once or twice literally - beat into a younger merc on a semi-regular basis, and it bode well for the future that it wouldn’t be the case here. Perhaps it was as simple as being placed in a position one was not suited for, or being rushed into it too early. Good as she was, even Skye wasn’t infallible. [color=#FF7800]”Any good news from the intelligence shack?”[/color]