RP:A Lycan, a Kitty, and Two Elves Walk Into a Bakery...

Magical Weaponry Emporium A large counter at the far end of the room seems to take up much of the space in this humble shop. What appears to be an elderly man in a long sandy brown hooded mages robe stands behind the counter. The old mage is very still and quiet. You cannot see his face obscured by the hood but you can feel his eyes locked upon you, his gaze following you around his establishment. In what few shelves there are, there are strange weapons with exotic markings they are decorative as well as deadly it would seem. All of the weapons present have a strange aura of magical energy around them, it would appear this shop specialises in magical cursed, blessed and enchanted items of all descriptions.

Desparrow is at the door to the weapon shop. Not really knowing why he was here but he was pleasantly surprised to see Sabrina in the shop. "Hello there." Sabrina was bent over the counter, feet not touching the ground as her height couldn’t offer both solid ground and a good view as Mephestico described the manner of which he fixed her bow. She seemed very serious when she looked at him, her eyes sparkling against the candlelight in a frosted minty glow. The spidery strand had struck a snag in its enchantment and required a brand new chord given the nature of practical enchantments which were usually left better replaced than ‘fixed.’ She turns to Desparrow like she was being interrupted but feigns a courteous smile anyway. She slides down to solid ground and leans sideward’s against the counter, unclear if it was she or Mephestico that Desparrow was addressing.

Desparrow watched the woman with an amused smile. "Ma'am.. It's a pleasure to see you again.. I know our last two encounters have been awkward for the both of us. I don't knwo if I ever truly introduced myself. Desparrow Ryder." he offered a hand to Sabrina, "May I get yours?"

Sabrina was less amused than he and had come to the conclusion by Mephestico’s silence that the male was speaking to her. There was no reflection of recognition in her eyes which cast down at his hand and looked at it as if it were a bug. She held her breath when she shook his hand, her soft warm hand barely gracing his fingers and even then emanating a noticeable feeling of unease that released into that physical action. She looked way up at him, almost hoping he didn’t notice that every emotion she put out bled from her touch. It was a right handed shake, leaving her left hand free to reach atop the counter to retrieve her bow from the counterman’s outstretched hands. She bites her lip nervously. “It was nice meeting you again.” She didn’t offer her name, in case she met him again and he called on her she would be left to assume she knew him. It was all very complicated but if he pressed the matter she could always make something up.

Desparrow frowned at her unease with the situation and was left even a bit hurt that she herself would not share her name. "Indeed it was." though he was crestfallen and his voice was far more sad. Taking that as a rejection he just stepped back from her.

Sabrina noticed his downfallen mood and could muster little to change it. She thought hard on social protocol and before her thoughts could get the better of her she blurted out the oddest of single word phrases. “Coffee?” It was the middle of the night, what was she thinking? Her eyes look dead into his, like she was bearing into his own thoughts and infiltrating all manner of defenses. She pushes back a stray strand of hair behind pointed ear, bringing her that appendage down to cross with the other to hold the bow between herself and the male.

Desparrow tilted his head curiously. He was amazed. "s-sure" he stammered, still stunned that the woman whom had said very little to him in the past encounters invited him to catch a coffee. How weird though since it was indeed so late but he would not mind. "I'll buy?" he offered a sheepish smile, holding out his arms in a fashion so as to say she may leave first.

Sabrina cutely bowed her head and passed by him out the door to the bakery across the walk-whats smell could be sensed from blocks away.

Mrs Mallard's Bakery and Tearoom

The sweet smells of baking waft into this quaint little tearoom from next-door making your mouth water. This seems like an endearing place with refined touches added everywhere from hand made doilies to small vases of flowers in the centre of every table next to the menu's. This small tearoom is filled with hungry or satisfied patrons gorging themselves on the delicacies the owner has to offer. Waiters and waitresses move about refilling teacups and smiling at everyone pleasantly their shoes knocking on the old yet perfectly cleaned wood flooring. Perhaps you could take a seat at one of the small tables with their beautiful table clothes or you may prefer to take some warm fresh made bread with you on your travels.

Desparrow makes larger strides to make it to the door so as to let Sabrina in through the door before he entered. "After you of course." he then smiled, waiting for her to pick a seat.

Sabrina blushed when he opened the door for her. Maybe he thought her arms were broken… or too small to push such a heavy object. She mentioned nothing of it, just tucking the bow tight against her as she was forced to brush by him close enough he could pull the smell of lavender and sandalwood from her hair. She was happy to see a table all the way to the back of the shallow eatery where she could both sit with her back against the wall and prop her bow accordingly because weapons on the table is bad form.

Desparrow followed her to the back of the room step for step, almost entranced by the scent she gave off. He himself should have thought about bathing in the morning. It had been a day and he hasn't changed clothes yet. Luckily right now he had hardly an odor to give off at all and took the seat across from the woman. When a waitress came around he ordered them two coffees. After the female walked away he turned his gaze on Sabrina with a bit of a lighter heart and offered a sheepish smile.

Sabrina couldn’t figure out a topic she thought he would feel comfortable with and sat quietly wondering why he was looking at her like that. Again she addressed social protocol in her head and asked an indirect question about the weather. She seemed uncomfortable for a moment before lifting up slightly and pulling a handful of hair to her front, she had been sitting on it and was rendered unable to really move. Inky trusses settled like a black river down her front. She fiddled with the pieces, combing thin pale fingers through it.

Desparrow answered the question but didn't understand her. It was hard trying to get a grasp one way or the other about this girl but he was not to be deterred. "So where do you come from? You haven't said a lot to me and I just want to get to know you." that same smile as before but this time a bit more earnest.

Sabrina was relieved to see the coffee arrive as his question was put on the table. She quickly reaches for hers before that annoying ring could accompany its place on the table, and wipes the bottom rim of the vessel before setting it down. She centers it in front of her on the table, turning it three times rightly and leaving it just so to steam in silence. She looked five fun flavors of relieved when she was done, and for good measure she gave a second adjustment to the piece, forcing the handle to face right, she was after all right handed. She didn’t, however, drink coffee. “I do not usually say a lot to anyone.” It was an honest statement provided with a sickeningly gorgeous smile. Her thick accent was the probable reason for her lack of general communication, the primary tongue being a rich River Elf with a strong pirate twang. It was an odd combination but when words passed through her lips it was melodic, as her kind would suggest, no matter what she said… particularly when she said something mean and angry.

Desparrow tilts his head to the side, not even having brought the cup to his lips yet but held it suspended half way between the table and himself. All the while he watched her curiously and found it very bizarre the way she had to treat the cup before she could relax but did not make a remark on this in the slightest. "That is understandable I guess but I just want to get to know you a bit. I mean I'm not a bad guy really.. I don't know what it is but I want to know you. I think you'd be a great friend." He offered now a boyish smile, childish yet refined.

Sabrina didn’t keep friends, a byproduct of not making them. She blinks unsure of what to say. “ I…” She bites her lip hard. “ I think that is a fair assessment.” She wasn’t, after all a bad person. She watched him hold his cup at bay and grinned “I don’t think it bites.” She points to the cup with an amused smile on her face. She had no problem mentioning bizarre curiosities, that was just her nature.

Daisy needs a post of entering, yes? Yes. Boring. Boring. Doors are opened and shut and eyes green like what glance around for the baker she knows but isn't around anymore. Sad day. You liked that girl, didn't you kitten. Of course you did. Absent bakers are replaced by strangers at a table. Strangers making assumptions about cups of -there is a sniff of the air- coffee. Tsk tsk. That won't get a girl so very far. You know what else doesn't get you far? Standing in doorways. So rude. Go on. Say hello already. There is a feline nod and a sweet smile that makes too many want to cringe from toothache. "Hi."

Desparrow felt a bit of a blush hit his cheeks at Sabrina's comment and brings the cup to his lips. He himself did not like coffee either but any excuse was a good one to be able to speak to this enchantress for another moment. This was however when Daisy showed up. His gaze turned without having actually sipped the fowl liquid he was seconds away from ingesting to see the feline walk in and apparently have a mental spasm. When at last however the female said hi he returned with a smile and a small wave, "Hi."

Sabrina smiles brightly at the cutest ever, tiny, wee little…kitten? “Hello, little one.” She had been wanting to say that f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Rarely it was that anything shorter than her entered the room and so she decided to like this littlest of things.Her smiles fades, Rohk didn’t like cats; but Rohk wasn’t here either. Sabrina was torn on what to do and simply stands, pulling out a chair as if the littlest thing was some sort of helpless child or enchanted cupcake-muffin. She reclaims her seat, this time remembering to pull the thigh-length trusses forward before planting her bottom atop them.

Daisy is invited! She is invited and welcomed and tots over there on tiny padded feet towards the unknown couple there at that table pretending to drink a foul liquid. They could be necromancers, dear girl. Maybe. Maybe not. We do not judge reading materials by their jackets. Oh no. Not us. Placing both paws on the chair's seat, she scales the grand piece of furniture, kicking a little at the bottom rung to help her along. Pulled up on her belly, she turns to sit on the seat and then-FLOOF! Up goes the tail not wanting to be used as a cushion for a kitten tush. Dozens of green and blue eyes stare at the pair who aren't of fruit at all. Stupid tail. A wrinkled nose lifts to frown at the arrogant appendage, but is quickly replaced with an apologetic smile. "Noisy." Because sometimes the loudest creatures say nothing at all.

Desparrow watches the little feline clamber over cutely and even scramble up onto the chair. "You are positively adorable." He personally loved small and fluffy things and even went to scoop the kitten into his arms as she finished playing with her own tail. "Hello there." He went to touch noses with daisy and suddenly felt very greedy over the feline. But he did offer for Sabrina to pet it.

Sabrina was in awe at the little tater-tot and props elbows on the table to just stare at her climbing gallantly with vibrant minty orbs. The coffee was not forgotten as it was moved slightly to the side, again turned three times to the right and left to sit, growing rather cold and neglected.”You have the loveliest of appendages” The tail looked soft and Sabrina so wanted to touch it. Cute things were by far this girl’s weakness if ever she had one. Not cute like actual children- because those were noisy, smelly, and sticky- but this petite, clean, and polite piece of pie was adorable beyond explanation. Disturbingly the comment was followed up with “Can I have it?” She didn’t want all of it, but something so fine and fluffy should have been displayed somewhere under the protection of Ara. She outstretched thin arms to grab kitty adoringly.

Daisy has never been one to turn down compliments or cuddles or carefully coddling caresses. Whiskers tickle the faces belonging to noses touching hers while a soft purr soothes the room. Oi! Kitten. Where are your manners? Nice things have been said while you say nothing at all. "Thank you." Of course tales of vanity are told when vain tails have something to say. So when Sabrina holds out those grabby hands, the feathery eyes flutter (on their own accord) to them, fanning and tickling and giving cause to forget about beverages no one wants to drink anyway.

Sabrina was caught up in all that was the kitten and demanded rudely that the waitress should bring warm milk. Sabrina looks at the bowl it was brought in and didn’t know if that would be perceived as insulting. She waited to see the kitten’s response and was positive it would be painfully cute either way. She had lost complete and total awareness that Desparrow was in the room. It was like a real sickness with all this fluff and softiness. With the thick layer of fur though, Sabrina need-not worry about any emotions being transferred as long as she didn’t do Eskimo kisses like the male sitting opposite her.

Daisy watches the man's head lol backwards in a haze of sleep with his mouth open. One paw is on his chest. The other points a single finger to be pressed against his cheek, turning his head so that the man doesn't drown in his own drool or swallow his tongue or something horrifying like that. This is what happens when you leave your fate to the kitten. She'll take care of you, yes. But in a hilarious way. Satisfied he is safe from death, the feline turns to eye the bowled milk. Oh this is quite convenient indeed! Settling down in the sleepyboy's lap, she pulls the bowl closer. That bag there around her shoulders? It is dived into. Dove. Div--- So she goes into the bag, rummaging around for a few things to be tossed into that bowl. Cinnamon. Cardamom. Clove. Ginger. Black peppercorns. Raw sugar. And finally a paw full of black leaves. It'll sit. And sit. And sit. Nothing is said. She only watches the tea. Uncomfortable silences are as such until the bowl is pushed over to Sabrina. Green orbs do nothing cause there are no orbs in this shop! Only eyes. Expecting eyes suggesting the woman should have a sip of the spicy sweet treat there in front of her.

Sabrina couldn’t help but laugh at Des. The sleeping sickness was definitely a bad sign unless there was a playful kitten around to wobble your head away from life threatening objects, like drool and table edges. She watches, and watches, and watches with the kitten, hoping to stumble across some epiphany in herbology only to be offered a milky tea. She wouldn’t drink from a fine glass in a public place, let alone a bowl which probably had porridge… or some sort of fish stew- she throws up a little in her mouth and stands abruptly from the table. After a moment of assessing the likelihood of losing a lunch she never ate, she decides she is not going to chum on kitten’s fur and so sits back down.

Daisy 's little eyes widen and sadden and shimmer with threats of spilling over onto her furry cheeks. She looks from the nearlygonnavomit girl to the bowl and back again, "Only tea..." she mutters softly with a bit of sorrow thick on her tongue. Oh come now, kitten. You stop that. Not everyone likes tea and don't you go making this poor girl feel bad. Now give her something she'll like. Reaching into her hair, she plucks out a little seed with a pair of claws. Her other paw begs Sabrina's hand to hold it upright for seed depositing. There is a tickle and a wiggle and with a soft whisper from kitten lips, a white daisy pokes its head out between Sabrina's thumb and first finger.

Sabrina didn’t mind tea, as a matter of fact she quite enjoyed tea. What she didn’t like was the idea of something touching her lips that was probably handled poorly, previously filled with some grotesque human consumption, or worse- cleaned by Orc hands! Sabrina was so delighted to see the birthing of a tender pale daisy betwixt delicate digits her eyes glimmered brightly. Setting the flower on the table she concentrated hard while the fibers of wood stretched upward to bind the exquisite perennial to the board. It was a difficult task not only binding dead wood to live foliage, but to bind one magic to another flawlessly. More flowers began to sprout in that place, using the energy from Daisy’s seed to bring tiny sprouts of various colors between each and every crack of the tabletop.

Daisy forgets about the tea! Completely! Balanced on little feet pressed against Desparrow's thighs, she stands. How exciting to meet another plant grower! Now, should the man wake up, he'd be greeted with a fan of tailfeathers. Which would tickle some of us to no end cause omg hilarious. But that isn't the point just now. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah. Daisy reaches over and takes Sabrina's hands -both of them- in her paws -both of them- and grins, giving them a furry little squeeze. "Help me." And the flowers grow. Tiny vines weave through and around and over and under and between that table, covering it in a thick of multi-colored daisies.

Sabrina hadn’t taken into account of the pads on Daisy’s paws. She looks down in slow motion as the kitten speaks, her eyes growing wide in horror. She wasn’t ready for that; she had no time to prepare! The kitty just reached out and touched someone, no appointment or anything! Who does that? The flowers on the table grew in a FLOOF! Much like the tiny female’s tail upon scaling the chair on her entrance. A flood of emotion transferred near-instantaneous from Sabrina to the poor unassuming girl- the current transfer was a dead panic that sent Sabrina pushing backwards and falling from her chair- breaking the connection as soon as it had been made. Panic is not a good feeling, especially when delivered ten-fold to the unawares- like jumping into a pool of gelatinous-icewater. Sabrina landed hard, knocking over her bow what was leaning against the wall, her feet flying outward to spill the table, the tea, the coffee, and the sleeping male outward from the corner. She lost track of the agile feline but immediately started blurting out apologies in Elvish.

Daisy is suddenly airborn! Of course the tail is no good for flying. It is no good for anything, really. Except folding up and making sure Daisy lands on her head with her back against the wall and little feet dangling in front of her face. The tail, however, is safe from harm. Unlike our dear Desparrow, who is now covered in cold coffee and a bowl of tea dumped on his head. Maybe he won't notice he is covered in milk and herbery. The kitten doesn't know elvish, but she does know apologies. Righting herself, she brushes off her clothes. Maybe you notice the bits of flora escaping the druid's person. Maybe you don't. But they're there. And likely to grow into something pretty if they aren't swept up right away. Moving closer to Sabrina, taking care not to get too close, she has a sit there by the woman's thigh. That is when the purring starts. The melodic vibration that soothes even the most vicious of beasts... or ladies who don't like to be touched. You feel it, don't you elf. We both know you do. Now just calm yourself, yeah?

Vaan enters the bakery, in quite a similar fashion as he always does; a sturdy, hemp-woven knapsack slung over one shoulder, and a tight-strung bow held at rest in his other hand. Supple leather boots ghost across the floor, whilst a ubiquitous gaze of nearly-colorless eyes scan the denizens of this venue. More often than not, when Vaan does this, he finds little to his curiosity--not many things interest the young woodsman these days. Albeit, the man shouting brashly did, surprisingly, intrigue the Elf just enough for a soft auburn brow to loft in placid query; the equivalent of a man, prone to displaying his emotions outwardly, shouting in anger, as it were. At any rate, Vaan's eyes peel away, though long pointed ears are never far from the scene, as the Hunter gently places his knapsack upon the counter, and states to Mrs. Mallard,"A bushel and a half... it's all I could find, what with the gross overpopulation of those vermin." The Elven voice of his... a mixture of soft-spoken posh, but reinforced with a layer steel, fabricating a tone both uncommon, and full of authority.

Sabrina was comforted only for the time it took for Desparrow to rip his shirt clean from his body and begin yelling. Astonished she admired him for a split second before she bursts into tears cradling cursed hands in her lap. She done it again and this was why she never talked to people. She thought to reinforce that note and pulled the Golden Quill from her hair- she really ought to remember to not write things down when she is upset, but she wouldn’t remember to do it when she wasn’t so really it wasn’t all her fault. She stands, pulling her bow from the ground and storming past Vaan in a clear rush to rid herself of this misfortunate situation. The only thing left in her wake is echoes of silent sobs and the distinct smell of lavender and sandalwood. Upon leaving she would immediately make full notes of her failure and designate Desparrow’s name and detailed descriptions of the kitty for future reference on who she should avoid at all costs.

Desparrow throws himself on Sabrina.

Daisy is totes taking the fleeing and tackling icly and hardly has time to respond! Girls fleeing and shirtless men yelling and then tackling and just after hardly interested hunters gracefully grace us with gracious presents. No wait. Presence. Though he could be a gift in his own rights. Before scary folks can come in and threaten to eat everyone, the feline walks over to the Desparrow there on top of Sabrina and presses a single finger to his lips. "Sshhh... You'll scare the monsters.”

Desparrow quickly gets off Sabrina, "Wait please. I didn't mean to yell I was just angry because I was wet and cold. Don't be mad I really didn't want to upset you. Forgive me." He was almost begging but he was being true with every word. "I do want to be your friend. Give me another chance." He sighed, on his knees now beside the woman looking a bit exhausted as he had not exerted himself in such a fashion. All at the same time those violet hues never left her face, his right hand reach out and scooping up Daisy to hold out to Sabrina, "I mean isn't she adorable?"

Vaan continues his transaction with Mrs. Mallard, revealing, true to his word, a bushel and a half of some form of plant; more than likely to make an assortment of teas with. The woman pays him his due, and he takes all but a copper, which he slides back towards her. When she offers him a questioning look, the Elf simply nods his head, a soft smile to touch his lips, and thereafter, take a seat upon a nearby stool and await his order. The tea, as if good Mrs. Mallard already knew, was brought out at once for the Hunter. He receives it with another of his smiles, before taking to sipping it with a refined dignity, belying his otherwise common appearance. Those of his eyes, which were previously bereft of any curiosity, take to the scene once more, as though a goer to a play; refreshments in hand, and a distant, nonchalant exterior, indicating his desire to remain neutral, and unmolested by further proceedings.

Leifong was livid. The bakery was usually dead this time of night, and that's how he liked it…. Nobody to see the shameful ritual he performs at least once a week. He didn't -need- to eat. The priest knew that as well as anyone else would if they saw the twisted remains of his physical body. To be honest, eating was not even truly pleasant. Without saliva to wash the food down his gaping maw, the haruspex had to shovel, burying his spindly arms halfway down his gullet just to get it in. What happened after was usually unpleasant… the sugary sweets did not settle well within him, and eventually they would explode violently back outward in a fit of convulsive heaving. Still…. Here he was, just as he was every week. Only now, as he slipped gently through the door, a dramatic scene straight from the theater was evolving before him. Needless to say, Leifong is not amused. The doilies alone could ruin his reputation, let alone his addiction to cute miniature deserts and baked goods. The twisted abomination stands there, wrapped head to toe in robes of shadows drawn from the world around him and compressed into a corporeal substance, eying them all with distaste.

Sabrina was tackled and lay sprawled out on the floor, the leather duster being the only thing separating Desparrows bare chest and her skin. The bow slides halfway under the exit she once sought. When Daisy pushes her pawpad against Desparrow’s lips and Desparrow in turn frees her from her prison she scurries to the corner, pressing her back firmly against it – hands out in fair warning that nobody touch her. She needed to gather her bearings, she needed to calm the hell down. She didn’t want the kitty; she wanted a safe unobstructed bubble. And her bow. Once minty eyes were turning a deep forest green. She was just plain not cheerful anymore. She disregarded the other two irrelevant bystanders and hoped they would do the same to her. She also wished the man and his cat would just let her leave.

Daisy seems to be scooped up and held out to the distraught woman, maybe by way of under her arms? Feet dangling, she looks back at Desparrow and then to the petrified woman who clearly does not want the kitten. Clearly. Don't worry guys. She isn't going to miew softly at Sabrina, no matter how effing adorable that would be. The feline knows that not everyone wants her around and they are right eager to show it! Like this scary guy who somehow made it past Daisy's Mamoru standing -er... slithering? Placed? What does a creature with no legs do? Coil! Yes. Her guard is coiled at the door. Damn couatl probably fell asleep. Lazy beast. Wait, what was Daisy doing? Right! The Vaan is glanced to. Not a threat. Yet. Sabrina is observed. Not coherant. Yet. Leifong is-FLOOF! Tailfeathers right up in Desparrow's face. You can blame the livid guy for that one, my good friend. Anger like that doesn't just radiate onto itself. Oh no. It affects us all. Especially alchemic accidents. So she'll turn and throw her little arms around the mini-Hulk's neck and peer at Leifong over that muscley shoulder.

Desparrow takes the kitten across his neck as he moved to grasp the bow between his fingers and slide it over to Sabrina. "Please Forgive me." He sighed, knowing that she was probably going to hate him for life now. Standing with the kitten in tow he looked to Leifong. "Got a problem there sir?" he himself was not in too pleasant a mood as cold droplets of coffee rested on his back and the cooling tea clumped his hair together and made his face sticky. He needed a bath.

Vaan continues drinking his choice tea, which is excellent, as always. The people before him are still the object of his eyes, and no motion is yet made to intervene on the woman's behalf, or even the darkly-dressed fellow's. He is content, at the moment, to reside here upon his most favorite stool, and drink his most cherished tea. He loathed interacting with strangers, and even more so when trouble was afoot; with the appearance of Liefong, and Desparrow's temper... Vaan was unsure how long it would be before something ignited.

Sabrina cringes as the elegant bow is ground across the floor. She cursed a long low strand of Elvish at him and picks it up from the floor. She literally –just- got this back from Maphestico. She had quickly moved on from upset to angry. Why wouldn’t he just move out of her way? When Desparrow finally does turn she pushes her small frame to rise; using the wall to make sure it was an unfaltering rise. As her mood shifted she would become more aware of the latecomers here. She felt ridiculous and cornered and she didn’t like the look of Leifong in the slightest. Good thing too because he managed to shift through the air and dissipate in a thick green cloud that may or may not have smelled as foul as it looked. The trick was escape without escalation. Keen eyes land on Vaan for assistance but he seemed otherwise irreverent to her plight.

Daisy relaxes a bit when the creepy guy poofs in that cloud of... oh god. Now is definitely not the time to have kitten noses! This one is buried into Desparrow's neck. He smells nice enough. Of spices and milk, actually. Mmm. Yum. "Let her go..." she coos, snuggling into those arms. Only she can't quite figure out why there's this... ah-HA! Accusing eyes meet those of the voyeuresque man over there just having his tea and saying nothing. She'll smile at him then, and curl a waving finger in his direction.

Desparrow had already moved out of the way of Sabrina, "Please.. Forgive me." was all that he offered as he would watch her leave probably. Oh but the kitten was so cute how he loved kttens.. this one would be made his pet of his manor.. Vaan finishes his tea just in time, and places the delicate teacup upon the counter. "Thank you." He smiles to Mrs. Mallard, bowing his head to her. The Elf rises to his feet right after Sabrina manages to. The crooked finger from Daisy is acknowledged with the curling of his lips in a gentle smile, and Vaan proceeds to gather his things and stalk forward, seemingly towards her. "Have a good eve, you two," He states to Desparrow and Daisy in a courtly manner, and to make matters even more bizarre, dons a glove and offers his arm to Sabrina, "Wish an escape, my lady?" His words are in Elvish, and High Sylvan at that; an odd dialect, even to most Elves. A nod of reassurance is added to the offer, before Vaan makes to open the door.

Daisy hisses and leaps from Desparrow, claws sticking out of fingers and toes. They are retracted just as she lands upon his head, arms and legs holding tightly like some sort of animated toon. "Fly, you fools!"

Sabrina tightened her jaw. Yes, let her go, that’s the spirit. She surely wasn’t going to ‘forgive him’ no way no how. As she made her approach to the door the proffered gloved appendage was gladly accepted while she looked up at him, eyes fading to a minty and refreshing calm. She stows the bow across her form and takes his arm properly. She had heard the dialect before as a bystander, but then a life under the oceans in Nuduin rarely offered regular visits from the High Elves of Sylvan. She replied accordingly in Formal Nuduin- the scholarly dialect was heavily ridden with a pirate twang as most of her seaborn kin were accustomed; still the melodic fluidity of her native tongue was enchanting upon those who heard it. She offers the kitty a complimentary smile for her kind suggestions ragarding freedom and a deep scowl to Desparrow that said ‘put your shirt back on.’ Upon exiting the building she would release the kind gentleman from the bonds of a white knuckled grip.

Desparrow sees the male advance and in moments after Sabrina disappeared from view the lycan was filled with rage at having been shown up by such an elf as the one before him. Ripping through his skin it took only a few moments before he was covered in the thick furry hide of his lupin form standing at eight foot eight behind Vaan and reared down to savagely bite him between the neck and shoulder to transfer the curse and then swept out his forearm to knock the man into the wall with his massive strength.

Vaan 's finely attuned hearing, accustomed to the subtle sounds of game in the woods, take not of the obviously changing fellow behind him. The Elf's reflexes, finely attuned from combat, and accustomed to the rigors demanded of the rebel leader of the free Elves of Sage, are what spur him to react in a dramatic flash of spin and smack. To further elaborate, Sabrina's hand is discarded with a gentle, albeit forced shove, and Vaan sidesteps, if only to turn around and swing his bow with blinding speed--gifted to him from his heritage, directly for the side of Desparrow's maw; wholly avoiding both bite and paw-swipe. To exacerbate matters, Vaan draws forth an arrow from his quiver, and knocks it with breathtaking fluidity, deft fingers taut upon the bow, string to cheek. It is launched, and another is reached for. Fur, after all, sells relatively easily at market, despite the source.

Sabrina would have heard the cracking of bone as much as the rest of them as Desparrow transforms into something cursed. She expected the gentlemanly push to safety and made her way toward the kitty who so took shelter by yonder table. Mrs. Mallord was gonna be pissed.

Desparrow growls when first his maw closed down on air and then his arm missed entirely. The sting of the bow against his flesh did not help the male to alleviate the situation between them either. It was during this anger that the arrow was ignored, until it shot through his snouth and pierced both nostrils. A howl of pain was let loose as the sensitive membranes were punctured and blood splattered to the floor and nearby tables. Gripping it he ripped it all the way through, the tail of the arrow tickling the inside of his snout and forcing a sneeze from him which furthered to cover the room in his bodily fluids. It was after this his violet hues locked on Vaan with a deathly glare. Magic flowed off of him, ribbons of pure ether peeling away from his flesh and circling his form. Opening his maw it was in a bright flash of light that a beam of pure concussive force shot for Vaan's body the beam holding a diameter of an average human male's head. Even if the beam would miss the flash of light preceding it was blinding and Des would get out of sight of the male and go for a side attack against the elf. Arms outstretched he aimed for a tackle, maw to clamp down on the bow and either attempt to snap it or rip it form the male's grasp while claws would begin to dig into the chest of the other.

Daisy peeks above the overturned table at the fighting men. Well that escalated quickly. Not much one can do but stay out of the way. What do you do for a pair of strangers you don't know. Not that you would know strangers, since that would make them not strangers. She leans to Sabrina without taking her eyes off the fight. "You deserve it... for being so pretty." And before the other woman can retort, Mamoru decides this is the time to bust down that front door, barreling between the elf and lycan to coil around his ward and her new friend. Well almost friend. I don't know! Girl who flips s*** when touched. Anyway. Thirty feet of fat, rowboat sized couatl fills the room, ready to take out anyone trying to harm his kitten.

Sabrina’s mouth dropped open. She had never thought of herself as being anything to boast about visually. But she was a darn smart cookie and that’s a fact-Jack. She cuddled the kitty neatly, making sure the paws was on the outside of the leather sleeve of the duster she always wore. She was taken a bit by surprise by Mamoru and sits silently watching as she is surrounded by an endless ring of cold-blooded coil. She considered the social protocols that just took place and decided “I believe we are dealing with an Alpha-male issue more than a female dominance issue.” Though, it was said mostly in Elvish due to the excitement and what little Daisy could make out was probably not tangible. She saw a blast coming forth and covered Kitter’s delicate peepers.

Vaan acknowledges the strike of both bow shaft and arrow, but it is a quickly fainting thought in the ever-changing sea of images and thoughts that cascade in his mind whilst in combat. A Lycan harnessing some sort of magic was beyond Vaan's knowledge, which is the cause for hesitancy that sees him assuredly wounded by the harrowing beam of light. The strike is not dead on, for the Elf manages to squirm away at the last second, resulting in a brutal sear across his shoulder and upper-arm; the skin to blister and bleed, the leather not affording any sort of protection from this unknown power. Vaan curses in his native tongue, as he stumbles sideways into a table, still scrambling to regain his footing from the assault. His arm hangs limp at his side as he regains his footing, but with the impending Lycan rushing at him, he is quick to forget the pain and make a hasty retreat in order to reassert his efforts. Vaan simply falls back, onto the table, but before he flops on it like a peasant struck with sheer fright of a horror barreling onto him, the Elf nimbly throws his legs up and attempts to kick the Lycan, whilst enacting a quick backwards somersault over the tabletop--to garner some distance and think. While he does so, two arrows are begrudgingly drawn taut, and released for the monster's chest, the fletching to hiss with promise.

Daisy has no idea whas Sabrina just said, but it kind of came out in a child-like 'nuh-uh!' Even so, there is no need to worry, it seems. Snuggled against the trophy wife, she watches on. Oh! That was a good one. Oman! That is gonna hurt. Yikes! He's gonna need stitches. The commentary goes on, but it is mostly large lettering of 'blam' and 'kapow' above the fighters. Mamoru dares to take his eyes off the brawl and shifts his head to look pointedly at Sabrina. Nearly nose to nose, he stares. Speculating. Judging.

Sabrina is nose and nose with a lizardly creepy… ew its tongue just..ew it did it again. Wut the wut? She blows in Mamoru’s face.

Desparrow was quite the sorcerer when in elven form, and he was not a stranger to his power just because he was suddenly a brute. As his opponent was caught by surprise he himself had a low, guttural chuckle. When Vaan had retreated to the table and strung those two arrows he suddenly shoulder charged, turning his body. Those arrows stuck into his arm and shoulder but his charge would not stop. He was running full on, knocking aside and smashing anything in the way including the table between the two. Whether or not he was able to make impact and knock the elf to the ground he let loose a deafening roar backed by his latent magical power. The energy amplified his voice to even greater volumes and pitches making it like a banshee's wail through a megaphone which shattered every glass and ceramic in the room, the sonic blast knocking back anyone caught within it and smashing all the tables and chairs that were also caught into the nearest next solid. He swiveled his head in each direction so as to cover the entire bakery so that it wouldn't be focused on one wall so long he blasted it down. When his howl ended the male looked For Vaan among the rubble, breathing heavily with muscles rippling beneath the flesh.

Sabrina would have taken this opportunity to dash kitty to the door but she was stuck in a couatl’s coil and so simply tried to shrink into the mass to protect her ears. She squeezed the puddin out of the Daisy in the process and still didn’t manage to keep the ringing at bay.

Daisy stuffs both paws in her ears with a pained cry. Tucking his head into the top of the coil, Mamoru curls around them to protect the ladies from death by howling, but he can't keep it all out. The flying pieces of teashop bounce off his thick skin, but the noise is only muffled a little.

Vaan is on the move, ignoring whether or not his arrows struck their mark. It's a fools way, to stand toe to toe with a monstrous Lycan. His empty knapsack is removed from his shoulder, and taken to arm. Then, the cunning Elf jumps onto the table, using it once more as a base to spring from--dodging that banshee's wail--and just as it it torn from below him by the rampaging Lycan, does he vault forward. The knapsack, which held the herbs from earlier--herbs that produce a very strong pollen that can cause blindness, disorientation, and even coma if subjected to enough of it--is drawn wide open, and aimed to forcefully cover Desparrow's head in mid-scream with brittle hemp weave and toxic pollen. Vaan relies on his weight alone, to offset the Lycan's balance, should 'capture' be made, at which point he will find something heavy to put the damn monster to sleep.

Desparrow finished his roar, leaving the furniture and much of the eatery in shambles though as the cloud of toxins and whatnot find their way around his head he starts another howl but it dies shortly after, his powerful respiratory drawing in the pollen quickly which began to work fast. Moments later he started to stagger before ultimately collapsing. Once he was snoring on the ground did he morph back into his elven state, those two arrows yet in his shoulder, bleeding from a new piercing through his nose and completely naked. The elf lay there in all his -full- bronzed glory. All muscly and glistening with a light sheen of sweat and blood.

Sabrina , along with kitty, are inside a beasty and sheltered from all that glory.

Daisy quickly shoves Mamoru a bit. No way is she missing out on any glory!

Vaan || It is at this point, that Vaan hastily removes the knapsack from the monsters head, but not before making quite sure the thing was out. After doing so, he retrieves a few poultices from a waist pouch--something all Hunters keep handy--and grueling tugs free the arrows from Desparrow; no thought given to the pain that it might cause the man-beast. After which, should he be asleep still, or a willing patient, the Hunter would apply the aforementioned poultices. He was vaguely familiar with Lycanthrope's and their inherent ability to regenerate rapidly, but Vaan didn't wish more harm on the fellow than was previously necessary. "Lie still, sir." The Elf mutters more to himself than anything, as he begins wrapping up the wounds in a gauze.

Sabrina practically glowing red when she spies –him- all bronzy and nekkie and.. She lets the kitty go. She really wished Daisy wouldn’t have brought this truth to the forefront. In the aftermath she stands, doing everything in her power not to look at the elephant…er..naked guy in the room. Continuing on in her native tongue she offers to tend to Vaan, for all her understanding he was the one who needed tending having been at the wrong place at the wrong time. She realized it was her fault all this…she looks around in shock at the destruction… was her fault. She stood with her back to the Elven male, as facing him would require her to view the other.

Desparrow would lie still the entire time. Even with his unbelievably high metabolism the amount of powders and whatnot he inhaled would be a while yet before they burned off in his blood. This gave the elf ample time to do as was necessary.

Daisy scrambles out of her protective cage and has a good look around the place. She tsks twice and pads over there to the now docile men. A wince twists her face as a single feather is plucked from her tush and lain across Desparrow's gloriously bronze posterior, making him a bit more decent for present company. Sabrina is a =lady= afterall. Not that Daisy isn't female herself. But medics hardly count when it comes to nudity. "Apologize." The word is a demand more than request as she gestures to the poor Mrs Mallard.

Vaan finishes his work, and shakes his head down to Desparrow, "I'm sorry things happened this way." After all, the Lycan was an Elf, at one point in his life; a people Vaan holds very dear to his heart, given his current status, and his peoples drifting, waning hopes of restoration. His shoulder is stiff now, and burns like the fires of hell, but he manages to swallow past the ravaging agony of it, and rises to his feet, "I need no assistance, my lady." He states to her, without turning from Desparrow. "Mrs. Mallard," Vaan tosses back the money she paid him from earlier, "I apologize for these transgressions, and if you need help clearing this all up, count my hand among your recruit." It is here, that the Elf would turn around and step so as to look upon the woman he just fought for--unwittingly. "Are you unhurt?" An auburn brow lifting in subtle query.

Sabrina is quick to apologize as well, figuring things the way she figured them, and hands the Baker lady a heavy purse for her troubles… and repairs. It must have been an Elvish custom since she saw the other do it as well. She looks way up at Vaan like a star struck teenager, shaking her head silently. She was rendered speechless, and for the time being fiddled with the chord of the bowstring that had since dug into her. She still had a ringing in her ears, but something she figured would pass in due time.

Daisy doesn't care about clothes or being decent. Again: Medics don't count. They've seen all you've got and then some. Even pleasant dream having eleglories don't phase her. A finger prods Desparrow's nose. "Apologize."

Desparrow nods to the woman that was possibly cowering or not. "Sorry ma'am. I live in Cenril. Send me the bill."

Vaan offers Sabrina a small smile, his head tilting down to gaze up at her from betwixt stray strands of his now messy auburn hair. "I do believe she's well." He states to Daisy, peering around the woman's shoulder to look at the other. "Can I entrust you with her vigilance? I would dreadfully hate for her to stumble upon any other problems on her way home." It is then, that Vaan directs a look towards Desparrow, though more to ascertain his present condition, than anything. He's moving, albeit seemingly a bit groggy. He would be well, Vaan surmises.

Sabrina wasn’t going to stumble on anything. She wasn’t going home at all. Instead she waits for Vaan to leave, letting him believe full well that she intended to stay in the care of the other female, and as soon as he made his departure would head to a place where she could write about it all before it slipped her mind. During all the events that passed, she only recalled one name, Desparrow, and that subject would be written in great detail.