do something

The Keeper was frustrated, and it showed in the way his hands trembled, with each breath he took. He doesn't respond to the questions, but when Carasson calls him out for being a drunk, he snapped. His First was right there, and it didn't take much for him to straighten to his full height.

He pushed the other man into, probably onto, the table. Ignored the cups of tea as they fell to the floor, spilling, metal clanging. Porcelain just didn't make sense out here on the coast, after all. Do you know how badly I want a drink right now? His words were murmured, as he leaned, mere inches from the others face.

I'd love to be so deep in my cups that I don't know who I am, or what's going on around me. The words were snarled, his fingers curling around the other's wrists. Likely leaving marks; though they'd fade in a few hours.

Xochipilli glared, brown eyes searching Carasson's features, debating with himself. Back and forth, back and forth. And then, as if this move would convey every bit of anger, he leaned down for a kiss. The kind of kiss that was rough enough to leave both parties breathless.

And as he pulled away, fingers still pressed firmly against Cara's wrists, he shook his head. I'm a selfish man, don't you know that? He wouldn't let Cara walk away without a fight. He's quiet, face flushed from both anger and the kiss. And then, Then no-one goes. The words are firmly spoken. We continue with our plan, building and preparing for sea. Or we can start sending Teagan with groups, to Arlathan. It's hidden. Rumors said Arlathan was protected, but he wasn't so certain.