| [Jan. 23rd, 2009|06:31 pm] |
"Light feet?" Asuma echoed, eyebrows winging up as Kuromaru's nose inched across the table towards him, nostrils flaring, before the dog slid back. "Boyo, I reckon' my feet're bigger than your entire head."
The server returned with their drinks just in time to catch that comment. Asuma awarded the man a mental point when he kept his face blank, set down a pint of beer, a bowl of water, and a soda bottle, and skedaddled without a word.
Tsume was packing up his medi-kit already. Asuma leaned forwards, flicking two fingers towards the raw scratches webbing over her throat, still bleeding sluggish red lines down pale skin. "Don't forget those, girl. You'll regret it later if your throat rots off."
Definitely on the pretty side of the scale, but he was really starting to get that slightly too young feel from her, even if she had managed to con the server into giving her a beer. That wasn't exactly a hard trick for a ninja capable of braiding a civillian's eyelids together.
Maybe he should have stayed and talked to the cafe owner, but these two were just too damn entertaining.
He flicked the sealing marble down the neck of his soda bottle, and tried not to be overly thrilled when bubbles hissed over his fingers. Ramune. One swig was enough to make the better parts of his childhood light up and spin a memory dance.
He smiled to himself and looked back at his lunch companions. "So what did your clan-buddy do to you, anyway, that made him deserve a street-thrashing?" He leaned his chin on one palm. "Or did you do something to him?" |
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