[Kiel]

Phew! Like, it had occurred to Kiel that the dude may not ever give the feathers up, so he was totally glad to have the makeshift mace in his own hands, you know? “Wahahaha, thanks, man, like, for sers!” Bobbing down to snatch up the two throwing knives, he tucked them into the empty pouches on his belt and beamed. “Like, thanks, man, but I think it's just scratches, you know?” He'd gotten worse from rough-housing with Shane, so he was all good.

Chasing back the way he'd come but trying to stay slow so the Zanaryan could keep up, Kiel prattled about the fight as if Faris hadn't been there to see it for himself. When they reached the address Micah had given him, he hopped up to he doorstep and knocked three times.

The man who answered seemed surprised to see him, though. “Like, hey, hey, hahahaha, I'm here to deliver these guys on Micah's behalf.” He held out the feather stick. “But, like, I lost some of them on the way because of, like, bandits, okay, and this guy helped me get them back so I said you'd totally give him a reward, you know?”

[Faris]

Faris was hardpressed to determine which was annoying him more - the faintly throbbing wound on his arm, or the buzzing in his ears. Both were bearable, but only because he had applied the jademine salve to the gash and he had pretty much tuned out the voice of his newly acquired traveling companion. Kiel simply did not know when to stop. Faris was torn between feeling mildly impressed and greatly appalled by the courier's love of his own voice. He eventually settled for being impressively appalled when the fifteen minute mark passed and Kiel was still going on.

Luckily the dracovarian did not need much in terms of audience interaction. As a result Faris only needed to supply the occasional meaningless noise of acknowledgement, without even needing to actually pay attention to Kiel's nattering. Sometime during their journey to Hesia proper, Faris recalled the Dracovari saying something about wanting to join a league. Faris knew of only one league; the League of Defenders. Or was it Protectors? Gaurdians? Peace-keepers? The name of the organisation was a blur, and all he knew was that it was a group of self-declared vigilantes. Not something Faris was particularly curious about, but Zayd had expressed interest. He was tempted to ask Kiel about it, but was afraid that it would set the man off on another seemingly endless rant.

So for good or for ill, Faris remained silent as he followed Kiel along the foot trail leading to Hesia.

---

The man who greeted them was much younger than Faris had expected. Appearnce-wise this person was barely out of his teens. Coffee-coloured eyes stared at the outstretched stick for a few moments of confused silence. Faris was about to ask Kiel he had gotten the address wrong, when the person spoke.

"...These are my stympailian feathers? I don't remember ordering them to arrive on a stick.. the numbers don't seem to match either."

Faris groaned internally; just his luck, for Micah's customer to be haughty aristocrat. One that was just as bad at listening as Kiel was good at talking too. His reward seemed to be slipping further and further away from his grasp now. Pulling Kiel lightly backwards to get the courier's attention and put some distance between them and he irate customer, Faris whispered.

"You said something about having a few of them in your lunchbox, right?"

[Kiel]

“Ah! Ye-yeah, man, like, hold up a sec, okay?” Having forgotten that not all of the feathers were on the stick, Kiel let his pack droop of his shoulder and rummaged around inside for the metal box he'd used to be all, like, keeping them from doing a runner again. It was crazy heavy as he held it out for the dude to take, and, like, he didn't know what to say or do when the guy just kinda stared at him suspiciously. “Ummmmm.” Since he wasn't going to open it himself, Kiel bought the box back to his chest to cradle it in one arm while he, like, flipped the lid up with the other to reveal the remainding feathers.

“Like, see? Like, they're all there, like, right?” He mentally counted, pink-tinged gaze flicking from feather to feather in the box and then the stick. Once satisfied he totally beamed at the customer and held the open box out again. “Like, there's so many of them, man! Like, are you a smithy? You're making them into a crazy awesome weapon, like, right? But, like, there's so many, I don't think I would have managed to get them all back if not for this guy, like, hahahaha.” He clapped Faris on the shoulder and grinned again.

The customer finally took the box, his own gaze flicking from Kiel to Faris and back again. He sniffed — the kind of sniff someone did when they weren't sure about their next course of action or they were, like, looking down their noses at people, not the kind of sniff meant to actually smell stuff — and pulled a face as the Zanaryan's scent wafted up his nose, but he didn't, like, say anything mean. “Wait here. I'll get my wallet.”

He was back in just a couple of seconds, pre-empting any, like, conversation he could have had with Faris in the meantime. Kiel had kinda half sort of expected the dude to refuse to give them anything, but he handed the Zanaryan a single paper bill and shut the door wordlessly in their face. “Like, dude, friendless much? Wahahaha, but, like, hey, hey, that looks like it's about twenty xanthai, like, right? Hahaha, dude, that's awesome.” Like, it wasn't as much as Faris would have gotten if he'd kept the feathers for himself, but it proved that, like, good deeds had a reward, like, right?

Kiel was halfway down the street before he realised the dude had, like, totally kept his metal box. “Awwwww, man, like, dude, for sers, like, awwwww.”

OOC: Thread finished. :3