Eva shook her head, agreeing.
Brisa's lack of understanding might have been funny if she was messing with anyone else; Warin didn't strike Eva as the understanding type.
From previous exchanges, she was going to assume he was a little narrow minded and lacking in forethought.
"You lose ownership as soon as you place them in the pot," Roscoe argued, folding his arms.
"Don't you start with me. You know as well as I do if the game ends before a resolution all stones revert to their previous owners. That means those are mine."
Eva didn't care for the way Warin was pointing at Brisa and the stones she guarded.
Ajari's words came back to her, reminding her of what would happen if Brisa got so much as a scratch on her.
Not for the first time, Eva found herself wishing she could send the young Tenrin back to her flock. She didn't need this trouble. Unfortunately, it was hers.
Picking up Eva's tension, Drake ambled closer. He positioned himself in the perfect spot that would allow him to act if the situation escalated.
Roscoe spread his hands. "If you want to tell the Tenrin she has to give up her shiny, new prize, be my guest. Just be prepared for the consequences when her much angrier and far deadlier relatives come a calling."
Warin was still as he and Roscoe engaged in a short standoff. Several heartbeats passed until finally, Warin’s shoulders relaxed, some of the hostility draining from his face as his glance flitted from one of them to the other before finally landing on Brisa.
"You can take your hand off your blade," Warin informed Ghost. "I'm not that stupid."
Ghost moved his hand away from his boot, not even trying to hide his action. "That's up for debate."
"Next time you touch your weapon in my presence, I'll feed it to you," Warin sneered.
Ghost curled a lip. "I doubt it."
Warin's smile left his eyes wintry. "I'd be happy to demonstrate some time."
"As fun as that sounds, let's not," Fiona said, striding toward them. "I suggest you move along, Lion. We're getting under way."
The rest of them were quiet as Warin climbed to his feet.
"Don't worry about him. Lion Clan is mostly bluster," Ghost advised Brisa.
Though the words were meant for her, his gaze was still on Warin in a clear provocation.
The big man's muscles locked as he glowered at Roscoe and Ghost.
"Oh, I wasn't afraid. I would have sliced his throat the moment he came towards me." Brisa's wings flexed as she lifted her forearm, showing the razor-sharp protrusion of bone along the back of it.
Anyone who had fought at Wayfarer's Keep knew how deadly those bones were.
Warin's shoulders bunched as an uncomfortable look filled his face. He no longer looked as confident in his prowess as he had seconds earlier.
Served him right. He really should have known better.
Nothing was ever as it seemed in the Broken Lands. Innocent looking bunnies weren't always harmless. A flower's pollen could melt your insides if inhaled and bugs could burrow into you to lay eggs, leaving your flesh for their offspring.
It was a dangerous place where a moment's inattention could result in your death.
Brisa resembled a youth, but she was as deadly as any of her brethren.
Warin had forgotten that. Almost to his detriment. Eva didn't think he would have enjoyed the price to be paid if cooler heads hadn't prevailed.
"Walk away, Warin," Fiona advised when he didn't move. "It's not worth it."
