ISAR
Arm yourself
"Ouch," he huffed softly, with a mock wounded expression, placing a long-fingered hand over his heart. "The lady is harsh. But alright. Challenge accepted." His answering grin was full of salacious promise, and only faded marginally at Astaroth's admonition. Sparing the taller man a second look, Isar considered the impeccable state of dress, the cane and the overall impression it affected. Maybe he should make a point of sticking to him; something might rub off that would please the sharp-eyed woman.
An odd gleam entered his eyes as Whitebrim was brought up. Nodding in slow understanding, he got a feeling that they would need a private conversation at some point. With Thalassa to overhear them it might be awkward - he didn't want to make her even more adverse towards him.
"Yes, do tell," he agreed instead, and went over to the rocks to make himself comfortable. He would never grow too old for a good story.
An odd gleam entered his eyes as Whitebrim was brought up. Nodding in slow understanding, he got a feeling that they would need a private conversation at some point. With Thalassa to overhear them it might be awkward - he didn't want to make her even more adverse towards him.
"Yes, do tell," he agreed instead, and went over to the rocks to make himself comfortable. He would never grow too old for a good story.
Because no one else here will save you
