Lion Head Mesa (ap) I wish you nothing but the gentle kiss of yellow piss.

Arsenio blinked at the command spoken by the Pharaoh.

The Greek looked toward the crimson drunkard and grimaced. There would be no pleasure in beating a dullard who was out of his mind on spirits provided by the very man he had so grievously insulted. The words that had been whispered by the Greek woman drew a single russet ear toward her. The man huffed a breath through his nose – exasperated understanding. They had been given an order, and he was not smart enough to question such things.

Hackles bristled as the redstone wolf prowled in a low circle around the drunk. It appeared he might have been sobering quickly. Much of the merriment had been drained from his features. He no longer believed they were having a good time.

Arsenio lunged for Reyes and aimed a snap of his teeth for the man’s snout.

Damn your foolishness! Why didn’t you just leave?

There would be an example set for the Mazoi. The others had seemed only waiting for the first move.