Word Count → 588 :: Back dated 25th Jan (After leader meet). Slight pp in Cap already being there, lemme know if that's okay. And, eeer. Ignore sucky starting post. Muse did not wanna play nice today ¬.¬
Despite all the hype and excitement building up towards it, the leaders meet hadn't been all that interesting and had been surprisingly uneventful. Maybe it was simply due to his lack of interest in the others present or maybe it was the basic desire to return home; either way he'd pretty much spent the entire time sat next to Naniko sulking within the confines of his mind whilst maintaining a neutral expression and posture, each second spent there he found himself fixated on the fact that there was no leader present within Anathema, that he was away from home and the knowledge put him on edge and made his mood sour. Whenever he believed no one to be looking he peered longingly at the exit, wishing the wretched feast would be over already and his freedom granted.
When the feast was over he let out a heavy breath he had unknowingly been holding, tense muscles slowly relaxing as he rose to his feet, mumbling his farewells as he quickly made his way out of the tent and couldn't be more relived to be out of there. Clenching and relaxing his hands he allowed the built up tension to escape from him and then turned his attention to scanning the crowds for Alexander whom was supposed to have been waiting nearby; although the grey samurai had no doubt the pain in the backside had wondered off at the first sign of anything remotely good looking or booze; the idiot was a sucker for both things. Sighing he raised a hand and stroked Beyaz's chest, the crow leaned into the touch slightly but otherwise did nothing more to acknowledge the small show of affection. Casting his sight over the sea of gathered canines frustration began to build within the grey male once more; this time his irritation was completely directed at Alexander.
Pushing and shoving his way through his crowds he aimlessly searched for his companion, pushing others out of the way more then he needed to, but manners were low on his priority list; he wanted to go home and get out of the overly crowed place as quickly as possible. As he stepped away from the crowd a little he felt someone grasp his left forearm and without thinking he twisted and had the offender by the throat quickly enough. “What part of wait outside till the feast is over did you not understand?” he growled at the pale male, releasing his grip and getting an innocent smile in return from the other. Knowing it was pointless arguing with Alex he sighed; the sound of surrender. “Awh, if I didn't know any better i'd say you missed me, oh mighty leader” Alex's mocking words earned him a stern look, but the pale male seemed to care little.
“What ya doing all the way out here?” he asked, suddenly worried about what the idiot Zepar had been up to in his short absence; Alexander was a walking disaster waiting to happen in the Rakeeb's opinion and thus to be monitored and babysat as much as possible. In response to the Rakeebs question, Alex simply smiled and waved his hand over towards a stool, following the other's indication Key turned and spotted a trader holding a blade out towards a familiar dark female. “I was admiring the scenery. Can't help but not admire such a fine backside” Alexander added. Punching Alex sharply on his arm, he rolled his eyes and headed over to where the trader and female were located.
table by raze; image from wikipedia commons; template from the mentors
Word Count :: 1300+ So much ramble o____o Feel free to skip to last paragraph?!
The day was drawing on, and Caprica could feel tiredness leeching into her muscles. The dark Anatheman had really gone to town with the festivities, bestowing and extorting booze and whatever else she could find with determination to simply lose herself and find a wilder, far more engaging creature within. She'd succeeded in losing herself, at least... not to mention losing several mornings into the bargain. She'd drunk her stores dry, and thus found a new determination for her original mission: to trade. She was on the prowl for only specific things. Firstly, anything that would benefit Anathema: secondly, presents for her brothers, and thirdly, alcohol, pure and simple. However, although several passing traders were intrigued by her offerings of herbs and spices, and many wished to try on her handmade jewellery, business was slow: she'd only acquired a small bottle of gin, which tasted rough but she was sipping at it regularly anyway. Possibly she'd failed to make much progress because all day she'd kept drifting off for minutes at a time, leaning against a tent pole which she'd tied her thoroughbred mare to, wary of further stampedes. She felt much more awake since her naps, but now there were less traders wandering past. A little bored, Caprica leant back against her horse's side and spoke nonsense to her under her breath, grateful for the animal's presence. Not only was she useful transportation, she also doubled as a moving market stall, as all Caprica's wares fitted into the saddlebags since the bulky bottled goods were gone for good.
Her roving green eyes found plenty of interest to focus upon, but at one point they found a gaze looking back at her: a lightly hued male, whose face was familiar: was he an Anatheman? But somebody passed in front of him, before she could catch the tell-tale scent that led always to the Rakeeb's den at home. Two figures, in fact, had obscured her vision: one burly and chestnut-brown furred, the other a smaller grey wolf with a rough and straggling coat. They both were festooned with swords and knives: at least five strapped to each of them, and bundles on their backs. Caprica thought they were probably just passing through, not here for the duration of the festival: they looked unfamiliar and were glancing around with attentive and hungry expressions. She saw one nudge the other as they looked her way, and then they were coming over.
"Well hello there, what can I do ya for?" she greeted the pair of traders with a smile. "What'll you take for the horse?" the grey male asked, without so much as a hello. Caprica laughed, but her smile had become cold. "You're kidding? She's not for sale. Especially not for cutlery." She eyed up his multiple blades with disdain. His eyes narrowed, and he stood in silence for a moment, the larger male at his shoulder equally wordless. Then the grey wolf shrugged, "okay, whatever." He turned, striking a flint to light a cigarette and muttering something to his companion. They weren't five paces away when Caprica rushed forwards, her hands in the air. "Wait!" The wolves stopped, and turned. Caprica gulped, smoothing her hair. "Uh, is that... is that a katana? On your back?" She'd seen it as he turned to go: the long, curving scabbard, with the two-handed hilt protruding, red symbols painted on black.
"...Sure," the grey man admitted, eyeing her thoughtfully. "Changing our mind are we?"
"Not exactly." She remembered so well hefting the blade belonging to the Rakeeb and slicing it into the bear's massive flank. The damage had been impressive. She imagined herself standing by Alaki, both Anathemans wielding matching blades, threatening some idiotic trespasser to its knees. "I am kinda interested, though," she admitted. The grey wolf took a drag on his cigarette, eyes focused on her. "It's a good blade. Easily worth the horseflesh." "She's got sentimental value," snapped Caprica and he raised his hands in a mockery of apology. "Show us what else you got, then, sweetheart."
A puff of lascivious smoke followed this drawling challenge and suddenly she wanted to hit him, but thankfully, she wanted the weapon more. "I have tasty, tasty spices and herbs," she tempted, but received only a blank stare. "For cooking?" she clarified hopelessly. The wolves frowned, exchanged a puzzled look. "Cooking?" the tall brown male grunted.
Caprica quickly shifted tack, unhooking her chains and pendants from her neck and holding them up, dangling and glinting in the low winter sunlight. "How about these. Hand made, unique. You could trade 'em on, branch out from the weapons business, you know? Attract a new clientele... a more attractive, stylish, feminine clientele..." But Caprica already knew her wheedling was falling on deaf ears. Without another word, the wolves turned to leave once more.
"Wait!" she cried, and this time as they looked back at her there was more irritation than impatience in their eyes. But she had an ace up her sleeve: she drew a carved wooden box from one of Rohan's saddlebags. "I brought these to work on. But I guess I can let one or two go..." She lifted the lid slowly and a myriad of colours reflected in her eyes, glinting from the shining precious stones. There were about a dozen in the box. Black obsidian, gleaming amethysts and quartz, tigers eye, hematite. Caprica's eyes roved desperately over them, she could hardly bear to think about choosing which to trade. The collection had taken a long time to build. She'd intended to keep them for incorporating into jewellery to give to her loved ones. "That's a rare hoard," the grey wolf commented unemotionally and she nodded. He studied them for a second, then looked up at her. "I'll take the lot. And the box. And I'm doing you a favour."
Her heart sank. Was the sword really worth so much? She supposed it must be: she didn't know a lot about such things. Still, it was a heavy price - all of her hard-earned gems, some found herself in the deepest realms of the caverns, some lifted from human remains. The black obsidian was said to be magical. Caprica was caught in indecision. "Let me handle the sword first," she demanded, buying time. Reluctantly, as if she was wasting his time, the grey man nodded. As she closed the lid of the box and set it down on the stool, he unbuckled the sword-belt and offered her the hilt to draw from the sheath. It was a beautiful long hilt, although the red markings upon it were crudely done: she would have to paint over those. She pulled it half-way out, and tilted it, examining the single edge, circular guard. It looked beautiful, although the hilt seemed almost too large for the blade and a dark substance surrounded the place where the two joined: still, perhaps that would come off with some cleaning. Caprica had no way to know that it was a form of glue holding the blade in place in a handle not meant for its size, which would soften and weaken before long, making the katana dangerous to the wielder. She only saw the beauty of it: and she didn't think to test the edge or the weight. A blade was a blade, and it looked wonderful, to her eyes. Her heart pounded: her eyes shone. She would have to take the trade. She curled her fingers around the hilt, and then in one swift movement pulled it free, letting the sword hover in front of her face, before swinging it to descend in a beautiful arc, and then another to the other side: she spun on the spot, before lunging forward, slicing from side to side, spinning round again - and coming to a breathless halt, the edge of the katana pointed right towards an approaching figure, a storm-cloud coloured wolf, with a face wound with ribbons of scars. Alaki.
Caprica quickly lowered the katana. "Hey," she said, trying to cover her embarrassment at almost stabbing him. "Look what I found. Those traders are selling it to me." Having explained herself, she turned her attention more fully upon her pack-mate. "How're you, anyhow?" So the leader's meeting must be over. Perhaps she would get to see her mother later on: perhaps she would be impressed by this new purchase. But she would probably be in a hurry to get home to her duties, knowing Naniko.
Word Count → 644 :: Lemme know if disposing of the traders was okay :3
Picking his way through the crowd his progress towards the midnight coloured woman was slow, his irritation from being stuck in the stifling feast began to rise as some stranger bumped into him a little to hard and yet, instead of going after the fool and demanding an apology like some hoodlum he shrugged his bashed shoulder slightly, thankful for the fact that the side his was his right and not the side Beyaz perched on. Eventually he closed the distance between them only to have a blade carelessly swung in his direction, causing him to slowly blink in surprise and then smile genuinely at the darker woman in strange approval. Footsteps sounded behind him, indicating that Alexander had just caught up, the pale zepar paused behind the Rakeeb and smiled in welcome towards Caprica raising a hand almost shyly to wave slightly towards her, mouthing the words 'Hey'. Whilst Alexander had their attention the storm coloured Rakeeb allowed himself a moment to process the scene before him; almost by pure reflex he shot the two strange males a threatening stare, his pent up irritation being aimed at them with that one look, his glance lowered to the katana as Caprica mentioned the traders were offering to sell it to her and without thinking he brought himself up to his full height, naturally falling into a dominant stance that he only used when truly needed, a thrown burrowing it's way upon his brow.
Seconds passed as he simply glared at the males and then his ever fine temper snapped. Stepping forward, his head fell to the side, black strands hung free from his face and an malicious grin spread across his lips. “Traders? I think not. A pair of con artists would be the correct terminology. Fuketsuna kuzu” his had reached to his side where his Katana hung, a grey hand wrapped itself around the blades handle in a snug, comfortable fit, the feel of it within his grasp reassuring and fueled the males violence. Bringing himself into the grey male's personal space just to get on his nerves he growled right into the unknown trader's face, the sound vibrating deep in his throat, satisfying and thrilling to be heard. Slipping a leg behind the male in a quick measured movement, he pushed the stranger back before he could respond to the Rakeebs threat and the young samurai laughed unmercifully as the trader fell backwards.
“Choose your targets better next time. No one messes with a member of my pack” he spat out at the two traders who seemed somewhat shocked by the way things had gone. To emphasise upon Alaki's threat, Alexander moved to stand by the Rakkeb, growling in his throat at the two traders in warning. “Scram and you'll let the lady have the blade; worthless as it is, we'll be taking it with us. Be glad you're being allowed to leave pain free” tugging his lip back his smirk displayed rows of teeth and he pulled his katana out of it's sheath slightly encase the others wished to challenge him; he was more than willing to get into a fight with them if that was what they desired. Sadly, it seemed that between the two of them they had a at least one brain cell and he watched with growing disappointment as they retreated. Glancing around it seemed the encounter had drawn little attention.
With the idiot traders dealt with he turned his attention back to Caprica, his anger far from settled and his sadistic nature close to the surface. “Next time you want a weapon, damn well just come to me. They were about to fucking rip you off for a pile of crap that looks like it's gonna snap at any given moment” he scolded the women, not bothering to sugar coat his words or clam his tone.
table by raze; image from wikipedia commons; template from the mentors
It was what Caprica was beginning to think of as typical Alaki: the minute he turned his attention to her and heard her introductory remark about the traders, his first reaction was a glowering stare in their direction. She raised the point of the katana a little, scowling right back at the Rakeeb although he wasn't looking at her. Did it hurt him to be friendly once in a while? Actually, the shock probably would cause some damage, she thought with begrudging amusement. Of course the man had been pleasant enough when they first met, but he'd been with his daughter... and the encounter had lasted only a matter of minutes. Quite the brush off. Much as was happening again: his gaze was oblivious to her, still focused with intent upon the pair of coyote traders. Caprica settled for rolling her eyes dismissively, before letting them fall in a liquid manner to Alexander to return his quick greeting with a smile... but she hadn't even formed the word 'hello' when suddenly the sullen Rakeeb stepped past her, making the word stick in her throat. What was he doing now? Caprica grabbed for his arm as he passed her in his advances, but his Samurai movements were too swift for her and she could only gaze after him in disapproving dismay. What was he saying... con artists? She could only watch, her free hand resting on her hip while the other still held loosely the phoney katana.
Things blew up quickly enough, but despite Caprica preparing herself for a show - half wanting to join in but not understanding fully what point her leader was making - the dispatchment of the traders was brutally quick. They got up to flee, and she noted with a cool, calculating eye - even as Alaki rounded on her - that the coyote traders weren't stopping within the boundary of the festival: they were surely just outsiders who had chosen a bad day to pass through. Anathemans didn't play around.
With this thought still fading from her mind, she slowly lowered her gaze onto the decidedly savage approach of Alaki. This was not quite the conventional chivalric rescue, she noted: he seemed as ready to rip into her as anybody. She didn't blame him: his knowledge of the weapons far outstripped hers, and she had been impulsive in desiring the blade from the untrustworthy strangers. She wasn't going to let him walk all over her, but he was right - and it was quite amazing how the Rakeeb's full attention had been brought upon her for the first time, only in the throes of anger. He would never have a reason to look at her twice any other time, Caprica knew, but now, although her mistake was being punished out of proportion by his harshly-delivered words, she appreciated the sentiment, no matter how it was framed. He'd looked out for her, he'd helped her - even if it was purely from his desire to shout at her afterwards, which Caprica supposed was always possible. She didn't really mind: the worst thing was disappointment in learning that her sword was faulty. At least she still had her gems, though. And her horse.
"Oh yeah?" she retorted, "Well, I ain't an expert like yourself, so I'm sorry. Maybe if you spent some time explaining this stuff rather than hiding away doing… whatever you do… I'd know better!" she continued, knowing full well he didn't hide - especially from her - it was only pack business and the size of the territory that meant they rarely ran into one another. Still, she found herself wishing now that they'd been more sociable in the past. She could benefit from his expertise. She would have to make more of an effort in the future. Despite his current behaviour. "But thanks. You saved me some shit there." She sighed, not able to muster up any real venom in her defence. She deserved his hard words. She looked contemplatively at the sword in her hand, the wide hilt and dull-grey blade. "Is it really useless?" Caprica lifted it to eye level, realising the edge was indeed blunt when seen up close. Surely that could be fixed, though?
Word Count → 527 :: He has no understanding of personal space ^^;
Only after he had said his piece did he consider his words may have been too harsh for the midnight woman; she was the Angela's daughter and it would be a pain if him scolding the woman upset the white queen somehow. Although he still stood by what he said; it was stupid of her to go out and attempt to buy a weapon without knowing what to look for, what it is worth or anything at all about Katanas. Just as guilt began to take place over his anger the woman spoke, shocking him and causing him to reconsider the Abrigor. Short had been their meetings thus far and the impression he had gotten from Caprica was that she was quiet, good natured and didn't seem the type to argue, especially when the person she was arguing with was of a significantly higher rank. Pushing his shoulders back, he held himself stubbornly and all to prideful; yes, he was somewhat in the wrong regarding the way he had wording things and acted, but at the same time so was she and he wouldn't let the woman know for a moment that he thought he was anything but correct.
With that in mind he responded the most mature way he could. He laughed. “I should've let them rip you off to teach you a lesson. Hiding away? I think not, little girl” the retort was significantly softer compared to his previous tone of speech and technically wrong, for he was aware the other was slightly older then himself but he was sure she wouldn't know that and catch him on it. In the background he heard Alexander sigh at the childish behaviour being demonstrated, but the storm coloured male cared little and he sure wasn't finished with what he had to say. Stepping behind her he reached over and wrapped one hand over hers which held the sword and with the other he grabbed the blunt blade. “Now listen closely as i'm only going to explain this once” he instructed, oblivious to the fact he'd invaded her personal space, his cheek right against hers as he looked over her shoulder. “Firstly the blade's edge is dull; although anyone with some knowledge may have been able to amend that to some degree, the main problem is the joint between the blade collar and the blade it's self. Mostly likely it was reattached at some point, but either way if you strike something with this Katana” he moved his hand down the blade to the joint to make sure she knew what area he was talking about, “Here will snap again”.
With his explanation finished he stepped back and moved around her so that he faced her again, noting the strange look on Alex's face as he did so. Raising his arms he crossed them over his chest, “If you are serious about learning to wield a Katana I can get you one, with some conditions” he offered her, guessing it was more an impulsive thing then an actual desire to learn. Although if she was willing he would provide her with a decent weapon and training with it.
table by raze; image from wikipedia commons; template from the mentors
She thought she'd handled his rebuke with relative calm, at least, her tone had remained level and her sass only at its usual pitch. Which admittedly was fairly strong. Caprica had always been ready with a quick comeback or contradiction: she couldn't help it, even with a higher-ranking member or at the wrong moment. They weren't in Anathema now, but she'd be a fool to think her behaviour here wouldn't affect things back home. She wasn't scared of Alaki, though: she was sure she could handle herself, and despite his vitriol, she knew they were on the same side due to their pack allegiance. So, she still had a cool head, although his laughter and insult were both fairly aggravating. She was the same height as him, or thereabouts and their age couldn't be so different either. She wanted to respond with something even more insulting but thankfully the male stopped her in her tracks by deciding this was the moment for a lesson. Well, she had to applaud his timing.
Her hands were seized, his voice filled her ear so close she could feel the little hairs tingle. She was frozen in place, trying to understand the words he used. The joint between the blade collar… his hand slid up the sword towards where both their hands grasped the hilt… was most likely reattached… his palm was rough on the back of her hand... If she struck something, he said, it would snap again. Caprica, for the first time in her life, was utterly lost for words.
She did get the picture, though. It was a shoddy piece of work. When he faced her once more, arms folded in what felt like a rather intimidating way - or at least, meant as such. Oh he was impossible, Caprica mentally groaned, but she kept her eyes trained on him as he made his offer. There was a pause of a moment as her eyes fell to the ground: she chewed her bottom lip, almost seeming shy and indecisive for a second. Then her head lifted and she fixed him with a baleful glare. "Know what, wise guy?" she began, which wasn't a great start, but she had to talk rough: her voice would have shaken otherwise, for whatever reason. "I'm a crafter. I think I'll just fix this one." There was a bravado in her voice she did not feel, as she had not the first idea about crafting or repairing swords. She was being impulsive, and stupid, but she didn't care. She cared about saving face, more than anything, right now. "Thanks again, really, for saving me a heavy trade fee… but I'm good now. Screw your conditions. I'll see you on the training ground." She tossed her sleek jaw-length hair and flounced forwards, heading back to where she'd left her horse, brushing past him so that her shoulder banged against his - pretty hard. Caprica didn't mess about.
Keeping his eyes level with the darker woman's he felt rather smug for he knew he was right and he'd just proven as such to the female; not only had she gone to buy a weapon without knowing anything, the weapon was so painfully obviously faulty. After having shown as much to the crafter he believed she would apologise profusely for her stupidity and be to embarrassed to have anything to do with weapons again, it was simply a matter of waiting for her to reject his offer. As the woman began to reply he titled his head to the side slightly, a satisfied smile began to spread across his lips but was stopped as he processed the words she spoke. His arms tightened across his chest, hands clenching tight in barely suppressed anger; the woman was an obnoxious fool who was too prideful to admit she was in the wrong.
Opening his mouth to respond to the crafter's words he found no room to cut in and was unable speak his mind, leaving him opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Throwing his arms down to his side he tugged his lips back, anger and irritation piling up and forming a harsh growl in his throat. It was unbelievable, even after he'd gone out of his way to show the clueless girl what was wrong with the blade and explained to her it was worthless she had chosen to ignore him and his advice and even insulted him. Just as he was about ready to growl at the woman and take his anger out on her she tossed her hair back and walked passed, actually having the nerve to barge into his shoulder, causing him to stumble back a step and simply stare at her completely lost for words for a second.
No chance in hell, girly. Jumping forward he reached out and grabbed her arm, his grip tight and without any mercy, kicking his heels in he pulled sharply on the woman, pulling her back towards him, bracing himself so that he didn't fall back as she fell against his chest. “And here I was playing nice” he growled at her, “You want to fix a blade, that you know nothing about and have no understanding off and attempt to use it. Do you have a death wish or are you simply looking down on the skill required to craft these blades? Ignorant little girl” he breathed heavily and relaxed his grip on her arm slightly, but refused to let her go. In the background he could hear Alex laughing, but he'd ignore the Zepar for now... the pale one would pay for his behaviour later; he sure as hell knew better than to laugh at him and it was about time the useless idiot learnt to respect his position as Rakeeb and stop pushing his luck.. although he doubted anything he could do or say would actually change the nature of the male.
“I'll say this one more time just so you understand me. The blade is useless; if you want one then I can get you one that isn't going to break at a moments notice” he tried to reason with her, although he was starting to think she was much like Alex; beyond help.
table by raze; image from wikipedia commons; template from the mentors
Word Count :: Lemme know if anything needs changing :]
Her mind was already leaving the sullen Rakeeb in the dust as she strode away, turning ahead to the task in mind: the sword. She would have to find a relevant book, or two, and maybe do some tests attaching smaller blades… she was determined to maintain her pride and succeed in this, she would first - but her train of thought was cut savagely short as her motion was arrested by a strong grasp, her entire body flying backwards at the pull so hard she would have come off her feet if she hadn't landed against something soft. Her landing then began to growl at her, thus revealing its identity. Alaki was as stubborn as herself, not wanting her to get away without convincing her of his point of view. What did he think he knew about crafting? Caprica thought bitterly. Okay, she knew nothing about swords, but this was her job, for goodness' sake. She dug her elbows him as she tried to push herself upright, unable to use her legs as she was off balance, held only by his remarkably strong arms - making her a captive audience. She wasn't going to listen though, whether deep down she knew she should, or not. Finally he began to sound as if he was giving up. She waited impatiently as he promised to speak just one more time, going slowly limp to put him off guard and then gave one final emphatic shove to break loose. "That's what you think. And less of the little girl. I can take you any day, honey," she threatened with very little basis to her words, other than she'd felt his arms and tested their strength and she'd found reason to think her own muscled limbs could match them, despite her lack of training. But Caprica could never resist any excuse to sound tough. "But we can settle this like grown-ups, right?" she continued, keeping her weight squarely on her feet so he would not be able to catch her off-guard again and topple her once more. "Actions speak louder than words… So if you've quite finished, I'll go get started on the repair job. You don't believe its possible, but I… I believe anything's possible," she finished with a decisive note in her tone.
It hadn't been his intention to pull so hard upon the Abigor, he'd simply intended to stop her from having the last word and he felt compelled to inform her that she was doomed to fail despite the fact he knew she would ignorantly refuse to listen to his advice. Still, as the women fell against him he tried his best to cushion her fall and keep her upright in a ways to make amends for having pulled her so harshly in the first place. Hoping that she would listen to his final plea he studied her face, not exactly sure what he was looking for; anything that would indicate that the woman was going to stop her foolishness and listen to him instead. With the woman’s words his ears fell back, his jaw tense with frustration he had no idea what to do with; never before had he met someone so bullhead and stubborn it was infuriating to even try and reason with her and he was beginning to question why the hell he'd tried in the first place. “We can settle this like adults if you stop gloating and claiming things that you are incapable of doing” he muttered in response, feeling drained arguing back with her.
“Fine, have it your way. But when the thing breaks and you fail to fix it; for that's exactly what will happen. You know where to find me” he answered back, turning to face Alexander who was now crouched on the ground, holding his stomach and shaking with silent laughter. “What the hell are you laughing at, Baka” he barked at the Zepar who simply waved back in response as he attempted to regain some form on composure. Raising to his feat, gasping for breath and shoulders still shaking, the pale zepar stuttered a few times trying to say anything, “Y-you two... ha.. are... haha.. EXACTLY... alike” and with his piece said Alex was still laughing. Moving towards the Zepar he punched the shorter male on the arm, not bothering to hold back and hoping he'd hurt the idiot and left to where he'd left the horse, not bothering to stick around whilst Alexander mumbled his goodbyes between bouts of laughter.
table by raze; image from wikipedia commons; template from the mentors
