Lion Head Mesa shortchange

Akhtar was a man of dignity and great bearing.

Even so, he knew the storm in the air from the smell of it. One of his eyes lapsed open, turning to find the Neb in the corner, catching just a second of the gaze. He did not stiffen, nor did he visibly react, but he bunched his muscles in preparation.

Not that he was rather scared of Gucci. He was fairly certain a strong breeze could send the man flitting away. Or, maybe, a large bird.

Neb. He said quietly, offering the man an arch of an eyebrow ridge.