[color=silver][center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjExNi44YWJhYzIuUTJGd2NtbGpZMmx2LjI/great-vibes.regular.webp[/img][/center]

Capriccio wasn't sure where to direct his gaze as he listened in on the trio's conversation. Too much eye contact and he'd seem suspicious; too little, and it'd seem deliberate. Thankfully, none of the three seemed to be paying much attention to their surroundings, and the rest of the patrons seemed equally divided on how openly they wanted to be listening in.

What Capriccio heard didn't seem directly related to his interests per se, at least not at face value. But as was often the case, what piqued his curiosity in the end wasn't what was being said — but rather, what was left [i]unsaid[/i]. 

And to find out more about that, [i]well[/i], he figured it would likely require some intervention from yours truly. Or who he pretended to be, anyway.

With a purposeful clatter, Capriccio pushed himself off his bar stool and raised his drink high up in the air, all delighted smiles and excitement. [color=8bb9c3]"Ah, so it was you and yours we have to thank for bringing in that mighty specimen earlier today! I'll say, what a [i]beast.[/i] I only managed a glimpse from afar and [i]yet—![/i]" [/color]

He'd come closer as he spoke, claiming a seat besides the dwarf, since the two on either side of Spix were already taken. He stared at the simiah as one might a celebrity, delighted to be so close to someone of note. Then he snapped out of it.

[color=8bb9c3]"Oops! Oh, do pardon me, I forget myself sometimes!"[/color] Capriccio laughed nervously, doing his best to appear sheepish, his tail curling awkwardly inward. He pressed a hand on his heart as both an apology and to herald an introduction. [color=8bb9c3]"I am Capriccio — a purveyor of stories, one might say, and [i]something's [/i]telling me there's quite an exhilarating one behind that [i]fierce [/i]battle scar in-the-making! Do tell; it's only right we get to appreciate the lengths you've gone to in order to bring food to the people!"[/color]

It was, clearly, not a topic the simiah wanted to discuss. But with all the eyes on him, Capriccio suspected he would have little choice. Oh, he would lie or [i]at the very least [/i]exaggerate, for certain, but, hopefully, he would still talk. And unless the man was very adept at hiding the truth, Capriccio believed he'd be able to catch glimpses of it amidst the lies. Truth always lurked somewhere; in the things emphasized and the things not, in the pauses, the contradictions, the lapses of eye contact. He knew because he, too, had spent a long time patching his seams to keep the truth from leaking out.

Capriccio sipped his ale, tried not to wince at the taste, and kept smiling expectantly. [/color]