Ianto
"It would not," Ianto huffs, though it would be nothing to do with his prowess as a fighter that would prevent any potential robberies. No, it's just that it's rather difficult to rob someone when a fox is gnawing at your ankles. That isn't something he resorts to now, at least, and his smile is the special sort of self-deprecating as he takes Remi's hand and hoists himself to his feet. His hand is warm and calloused, fresh from wielding the staff, which he keeps in front of him as he finds his balance once more.
"Alright, but if you knock me on my ass again, I give up. I'm clearly unteachable at that point." He sighs and backs up a few paces as if to make his measure of the Lullaby (an easy thing to do; basically, he's a tank on legs). Then he dashes forward, all rough agility and wily movements, trying to sweep the other man's legs out from beneath him with his staff.
"Alright, but if you knock me on my ass again, I give up. I'm clearly unteachable at that point." He sighs and backs up a few paces as if to make his measure of the Lullaby (an easy thing to do; basically, he's a tank on legs). Then he dashes forward, all rough agility and wily movements, trying to sweep the other man's legs out from beneath him with his staff.
