The ax is mean-looking indeed, but more significant and confusing than that is the way Fitz can hear the saber. It horrifies Huaisang for a moment, ducking back behind his fan (and, ahem, the man with the ax putting himself in harm's way); if he can hear it, then is it real? Is da-ge here with his sanity frayed to ribbons and will Huaisang have to watch him be put down like a dog again, again, again—?
No; no, it isn't real. (The talking wolf says so, so obviously.) The distant echoes of metal on stone are not real, and if they were, they would simply be the sounds of a city going about its day. Huaisang breathes out, gathers himself, and looks at- up at, hi- the well-armed man he's now agreed to watch after, for however long it takes.
...Well, they probably can't go to the Red with a big wolf in tow. Not that Huaisang has designs on romping halfway across the city and up that magic elevation box in this state, anyway. But still.
"I—" the 'don't know' is on the tip of his tongue, but he agreed, and more than that, some lingering sense of unease about the ghost saber makes him not want to be alone. "I know where some of the local inns are. Ah, the kind that doesn't mind a colorful party."
That is to say: a big wolf. As if he would make brother wolf wait outside, much as close proximity to Nighteyes is still somewhat nerve-wracking. He flutters the fan towards the main street, mercifully not the same direction as where the saber crash came from. It isn't far to this street's busiest stretch, and squatting square in the middle, a bar with some rooms upstairs. Huaisang's growing mental map for where to drink in town is finally an asset for other things; go figure.
"That way." A beat. Mercy, is he leading this charge. Alright. He nods, stepping out of the protective circle of ax-reach to lead the way. "This one will go first."
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No; no, it isn't real. (The talking wolf says so, so obviously.) The distant echoes of metal on stone are not real, and if they were, they would simply be the sounds of a city going about its day. Huaisang breathes out, gathers himself, and looks at- up at, hi- the well-armed man he's now agreed to watch after, for however long it takes.
...Well, they probably can't go to the Red with a big wolf in tow. Not that Huaisang has designs on romping halfway across the city and up that magic elevation box in this state, anyway. But still.
"I—" the 'don't know' is on the tip of his tongue, but he agreed, and more than that, some lingering sense of unease about the ghost saber makes him not want to be alone. "I know where some of the local inns are. Ah, the kind that doesn't mind a colorful party."
That is to say: a big wolf. As if he would make brother wolf wait outside, much as close proximity to Nighteyes is still somewhat nerve-wracking. He flutters the fan towards the main street, mercifully not the same direction as where the saber crash came from. It isn't far to this street's busiest stretch, and squatting square in the middle, a bar with some rooms upstairs. Huaisang's growing mental map for where to drink in town is finally an asset for other things; go figure.
"That way." A beat. Mercy, is he leading this charge. Alright. He nods, stepping out of the protective circle of ax-reach to lead the way. "This one will go first."