The ruckus in the tent didn't take but a few seconds to draw Riley's attention; he'd been talking to a small group of marks who were eagerly questioning him about the various acts. Did Melodia really eat raw fish? Did Izabela get her tongue forked on purpose? And how did Geth really eat that razorblade on a fishing line without cutting his own throat open? Riley was glib and full of bullshit on the answers, feeding the marks what they wanted to hear most and enhancing the fairy tale confusion of their lore.
When he heard the shrill squawking and cawing of a bird mixed with shouts and curses in dual language, he knew exactly who he was dealing with. A shake of his head and he excused himself hastily, moving from the marks back into the main part of the tent's entrance.
And there was Soren, hanging upside down and screeching, abusing a heavyset man beneath him who was... looking for wires?
"Excuse me, sir?" Riley asked the mark as pleasantly as he could, and he held up an arm in case Soren wanted to come down and land on him. Not that the raven was exactly a lightweight, but he felt like he should, pardon the pun, soothe some ruffled feathers if he could. "Is there a problem?"