The Great Game [3.5 D&D][Group 2 IC]

[Darkantra]

Cyral

Ramsey accept's Leroy's petting, but when the human stops the brixashulty turns to look him straight in the eye.

"Breeaaaah!"

Cyral sighs, "Ramsey, we can't all just sit and pet you all day."

"Breah."

The halfling throws up his hands in a movement of surrender and reaches into his trail pack for a bristle comb. He starts to comb the brixashulty's fur and gives a sheepish look at the others.

"Sorry, but he'll go on and on unless he gets a full period of brushing or petting. As for what I've been up to Will," Cyral snags on and works through a small knot of fur, "I've been sitting here, trying to ignore the snickering of most of the tall folk, no disrespect intended Leroy. They see me riding down the street and not a one of them thinks I'm a knight, they think I'm some sort of attraction. Why, if I weren't a knight I'd give them something to snicker about, by Yondalla," he stops brushing for a second and furrows his brows, "That didn't sound right... Anyways, I haven't heard of any work, but we only just arrived in town. There's bound to be something, maybe one of the others has found work?"