Clay was peripherally aware of the spectators. He paid them no mind--they weren't involved... Yet. He'd worry about somebody stepping in when and if that happened. All the audience did was piss him off more. Damn Payne, anyway. He'd like to throttle her.
Instead, he found himself staring in shock at the eleboar quill tattoo needle embedded in his flesh. Payne had stabbed him! And not a little jab like she'd been subjecting him to during the inking session, either--goddamn needle was rammed right into him. Clay let loose with an involuntary howl of pain. One hand automatically flew to the wound, plucking at the makeshift needle while his other hand aimed a punch at the side of Payne's head.