Dinan
The pros and cons of any situation could be myriad and insulting simple, and often both at the exact time. And that was exactly what was Dinan's thoughts ran to as the others engaged in the verbal sparring so common to those who felt the need to speak as often as an child new to everything. The one winged angel after hearing the Drakaani's defense had rapidly lost interest in the lizard. Beyond a uncomplicated feeling of thankfulness that their newest member as it were was safe due to his actions. After all the reptile had singlehandedly ensured Sakura's safety with, if the bodies were anything to go by, extreme prejudice.
Beyond that he tuned out in large part the goings on of the little meet and greet, social niceties simply beyond this proud and at the moment confused Kamael. Not only were there the considerations of exactly why anyone would commit manpower and resources to attacking them there was also Shyc. More specifically the glances that the thief threw his way. Dinan while openly glad his fellow mercenary had survived with little more then exhaustion the serious wounds magic had scored him with did not know what further to think.
Certainly the human was easy enough on the eyes, and even by Kamael standards was good looking. But the differences between them seemed vast to this five hundred year old soldier. Not simply racial in origin but also of mind and attitude. Though the winged warrior was willing to admit the fact such things could perhaps add the spice of variety to his life.
Though following the conversation between his comrades only here and there Dinan was more concerned with the attack. The presence of the Drakaani was only the tip of the ice berg in his mind. Why had so much been risked for the sake of capturing a single girl. Her noble blood hardly seemed reason enough to launch such a methodically planned ambush in the Kamael's mind. Unless the Lady had some secret she wasn't telling it made no sense, was she running from a jilted lover that ill took rejection?
Lost in such thoughts Dinan only vaguely remembered tasks he preformed, the motions automatic and unthinking. His only real link to the world his warrior's sixth sense. Briefly drumming the fingers of his left hand upon the hilt of Soulbreaker he called upon it's spirit.
As the weapon was forged from a fragment of his soul the spirt appeared in the depths of his mind as a dark mirror image of Dinan. The armour it wore was black and white, it's scrollwork picked out in glowing red lines. And were Dinan wore neutrality as his facade Soulbreaker wore disdain and pride in equal measure.
So once again you've seen fit to speak to me. To what do I owe the pleasure. Soulbreaker sneered in the cold tone only steel could, in the disdain a weapon had for warm flesh. The darkness of his subconscious echoed with the blade's will, a brief bit of sulk.
The girl. was all Dinan answered with.
She's reeks of something that's for sure. And by the sweet kiss of Mystria it seems worth dying for if our enemies are anything to go by.
Letting go of his hold upon Soulbreaker the angel considered the weapon's remark. Though the Kamael understood seeking to die in battle Dinan knew the humans he had killed did not subscribe to Mystria's teachings. Few non-kamael did and now was no exception.
So lost in thought was he that winged warrior was somewhat surprised to find himself staring into the depths of a fire around which the group had found itself. And sitting next to him was the other half of his thoughts.
Shyc, he honestly did not understand that either. He had run off like a green fighter new to battle after the thief's scream had echoed through Duun's gods forsaken terrian. He had left behind centuries of combat experience simply because of the pain in that scream. Truthfully the winged warrior was not sure he cared for that particular effect a single human had on him.
Still he looked back at this young human did Dinan, seemingly as unable to look away as Shyc seemed to as well. Quickly composing himself the one winged angel reached for the flask of Skyil he kept and took a long swallow. A traditional alcohol of his people Skyil was distilled from herbs that could only grow in the thin air reaches of Silver Storm Peak. It's flavor was however was open to debate as no two batches ever tasted exactly the same.
More to the point the booze lent his system the shock it needed to focus on something on then the proximity of Shyc...though perhaps a second shot was in order.