The Sentinels What good is a field on a fine summer night

he smirked and settled alongside his companion. "fish are fickle things." the pressure of the other's gaze came to lay upon him, and lasher faced dante. he respected the man to such a degree that he did not mind the meeting of their eyes, not in their personal interludes. it seemed dante had a subject upon which he wished to touch, and the druid gave a gentle nod.

however, a mischief-laden expression passed across taltos' face; he cupped his ears slyly toward his companion. "may i guess?" they would make a game of it, seeing as how there was good humour upon dante's handsome face.