[He's ready for the knife, too. The seconds before the knife is swung at him, he positions the tip of his tail, attempts to wrap it around Snow White's ankle. This isn't lost on the gourmands—and much to his later frustration, it does make Dylas equally complicit. He does want to start a fight.]
I'd like to see you try, you ignorant fop—
[The gourmand steps on Dylas' tail hard enough for him to make it back off and to make him wince. He's tempted to hiss, instincts from Ryslig bubbling back up. He could try to pin both of them, sink his teeth—
No. No, he recoils. The gourmand doesn't have his hands on him, so he pulls his arms to himself and stays where he is.]
Careful with that one. He's freak--er, fragile.
[But Dylas grabs his stuff. He's not staying around, either. His appetite's ruined.]
no subject
I'd like to see you try, you ignorant fop—
[The gourmand steps on Dylas' tail hard enough for him to make it back off and to make him wince. He's tempted to hiss, instincts from Ryslig bubbling back up. He could try to pin both of them, sink his teeth—
No. No, he recoils. The gourmand doesn't have his hands on him, so he pulls his arms to himself and stays where he is.]
Careful with that one. He's freak--er, fragile.
[But Dylas grabs his stuff. He's not staying around, either. His appetite's ruined.]