Varric wasn't quite as quick. His companion had snatched up the miscreant before he could blink, and suddenly the forest lit with chatter from unseen foes.
Varric stood upright, and took a step closer to Thor.
"I don't think they like what you just did. Mind running some translation?" He asked. His freer hand was still treding toward Bianca, though his amusement and confidence in the sparkler-esque arrows Clint had helped him consctruct were by no means a winning hand. He gave the writhing creature in Thor's hands a sharp look and did his best to look intimidating.
"You. Hush up for a minute. We just want to talk to your boss," he snapped irritably at the insane creature. "The thief. You can go as soon as he shows up with my property." The scolding felt ridiculous aimed at a small, hairy vermin, but one didn't remain a Merchant Prince by letting anything with more hair and less brains get away with theft. A certain idiot Dwarf had learned that lesson shortly before Varric had landed here and he wasn't in any more charitable a mood for it.