* 14 * 4/9/12
When Casavir resurfaced on the top floor, most of the hall had cleared out, except for a few stragglers. Neeshka noticed him first.
"Oh, you're back! How'd she take you interrupting her conversation? I didn't think that would go so well."
Neeshka had answered her own question, but Casavir replied anyway: "She does not wish to speak with me."
"I figured. She seemed to be really upset about that kiss; I thought nothing would be able to settle her down before we stumbled upon Bishop holding her. She looked at least a little bit better then, but she cried for forever!"
Casavir guffawed, his mouth falling open.
Smack! Khelgar had slapped his hand against his forehead and was gritting his teeth.
"He what?!" the paladin managed to sputter at last. So that's what the ranger had been up to. He felt sick to his stomach.
Neeshka straightened up, and her tail stopped moving. "Ohhhh. Did I say holding? I meant hitting. Er, well, I guess that doesn't really make sense, unless she's one of those types that likes that kind of thing, but I don't think I'd take her for one..."
Khelgar stayed silent, just shaking his head back and forth. Casavir looked like he had just taken one of Bishop's arrows right to his still-tender chest wound. He looked dejectedly at the ground, his stomach swelling up inside his throat.
As if he didn't want to deal the damned ranger enough pain already. His brow furrowed.
But even more than he was angry, he felt wistful. She had been upset, crying even, and who better to comfort her than the rival of the one who had made her sad?
He wondered how far Bishop had pushed the gesture, had taken advantage of her moment of weakness. His eyes narrowed and he left the two standing there, wide-eyed and not knowing what to do next.
He had to confront Bishop and find out just what he'd done.