Asbel blanched beneath the prince's withering gaze, and his arms tightened around the pack held against his chest. That the prince could move so seamlessly from shocked and apologetic -- almost soft -- to frigid and inhuman was a terror in itself, but the phoenix refused to shudder. He had suffered Frey's antagonism long enough, and with Augustine and Cassius so close by, the young prince would dare not do anything dangerous.

All the same, it took every spark of resolve in him to stop from leaning away from Frey as the prince drew so near. His breath reeked of sugar and old citrus -- and Asbel was so busy holding his breath that he almost missed the young prince's antagonistic response.

[i]Stop that.[/i]

Green eyes narrowed in confusion and disapproval, but already Frey was gone, headed back to the others, and Asbel relaxed -- as much as was possible. Had the retort been born of wounded pride -- genuine concern scorned -- or was the prince rejecting any further attempts at a peace treaty to their ongoing war?

Thus puzzled, and in no small way [i]offended[/i], Asbel followed Frey back to the other half of their group. Cassius was dressed by now, Augustine adjusting the buttons on the now-human's jacket. "Grab what you can carry," the elder prince ordered, looking pointedly at his brother. Cassius, shirt buttoned, hefted one of the largest bags in one hand and slung it over one shoulder.