Saras would’ve responded if Isadau hadn’t shoved him. “Well excuse me for confronting that ja****s when he’s wrong!” He exclaims sarcastically.
Saras backed away. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, right there!” He responds. “You two can’t see eye to eye on one subject and that makes you two always at each other’s throats! Not like your temper helps. So fiery for a power so cold.” He deadpans the last sentence.
“Why you sonuva-!” Isadau replies before leaping at Saras.
Frostvin watched the group bicker, but he wasn’t really listening. He never had lost it like that before, where he was so enraged that he didn’t even realize the bandits were dead. Frostvin sat down on a rock, dazed. He shook his head as if to expel the confusion. “What happened?” He muttered. “Why was I so angry?”
He holds up one of the banners. “Seems…different. From the norm, I mean. And the fact that it was on a bandit. I doubt this’d be a valuable thing to steal.”
“And achieve the exact same thing we already have, but leaving more witnesses?” Saras asks. “Either way, we’ve painted a target on our back, so we’d better be cautious moving forward.”