Daemon leaned silently against a cracked stone wall in one of Velmira's narrow alleyways, arms crossed. His crimson eyes scanned the street without moving.
"How long are we gonna wait?" Varian groaned, slumped on a nearby crate. "I'm itching to punch someone."
"We wait," Daemon replied flatly. "William's from Velmira. He said he'd bring us something to wear. We blend in, or we get caught."
"Tch. Boring," Varian muttered, folding his arms.
The old pirate scratched his salt-and-pepper beard and gave a disapproving grunt. "Tsk, tsk. Kids these days. No patience. Back in my day, we could wait three days under a floorboard just to slit a captain's throat."
Varian stood up and towered over him. "You say something, old man?!"
The pirate didn't even flinch. "Yeah. That you're soft."
Before it could escalate—
"I'm back!"
William came jogging around the corner, arms full of clothes.
"I'm sorry for making you guys wait so long, Prince Da—uh, I mean, Daemon!"
