Seeing the man's trapped wiliness, feeling his pulse through his clammy hand, Styrm almost smiled; a sardonic thing, crueler than the wry look he usually wore. Then he stopped. He didn't like where this was going and he didn't like what he was doing. He'd worked dirty business before, but he wasn't a face man. His interactions were simpler, more honest: hit back.Dancing like this required finesse and cleverness.Â
Taru'd handle it better.
His grip tightened. He regained his composure.
"Ne'er planted one on a lass so flat an' foul an' ain't lookin' t'start now," he intoned mirthlessly. "Now, deal's a deal," he said, releasing Solitaire's left hand to grip the right in a dangerous exaggeration of a handshake, "so start talkin'."
Taru'd handle it better.
His grip tightened. He regained his composure.
"Ne'er planted one on a lass so flat an' foul an' ain't lookin' t'start now," he intoned mirthlessly. "Now, deal's a deal," he said, releasing Solitaire's left hand to grip the right in a dangerous exaggeration of a handshake, "so start talkin'."
