It's a small crime [W'yn]

[lyrath]

Oddly enough, despite his anger and his desire to paint the sands red with the bluerider's blood, W'yn found himself begrudgingly acknowledging F'lix. He spoke a language that W'yn understood, of pain and violence. He didn't run crying and screaming off at the first sight of blood. There was no attempts of diplomacy or words. Kill or be killed. His words even rang a bit true. W'yn was out of touch with real fights. Since he'd left Benden the most action he'd gotten was from bar fights. Sadly, sometimes the whores he picked up fought back harder than the drunkards he pounded.

He'd be damned if he ever admitted it though.

"Go shard yourself," W'yn spat, his voice sounding a bit ragged. He tightened his grip around the staff, ignoring the spasm of pain he felt. He tried to calm down as he warily eyed the younger man taking into account what he had learned. Yes, F'lix was fast and quick with those daggers but W'yn was stronger. He just needed to not slip up and stay focused, despite the rampant desire to rip the bluerider into several messy pieces at each kick of sand. His chance came when sand came flying up from the sharding blue that seemed to think this was some sort of game.

F'lix turned his head and W'yn saw his opening and went for it. He took a step forward, pivoting on one foot as he swung the staff in a vicious circle, the length of the staff slamming against the other man's backside. He spun the staff, letting it roll over his wrist before he swung it again, this time into F'lix's stomach.

Before the Blue could interfere, Grinth swept down from the air, landing next to Saboth with a thud. He made no direct move to attack or threaten the blue, but he let his wings stretch out briefly displaying their impressive span. It was a veiled warning to the Saboth. Grinth was bigger and stronger. Not just fat like His said. If the blue interfered he would get hurt.

"What do you think?" W'yn jeered, his voice sounding almost amused as he glanced at the dragons. "Your scrawny blue versus Grinth? I give it a minute tops before he's ripped to shreds."

[rii]

F'lix realized his mistake too late. It did slip his mind that he was dealing with a man born and bred in Benden, that this man would act on those violent urges–would actually hurt him. Not just prove a point. No, wait, W'yn would prove a point, but he would go above and beyond the necessary force. It was F'lix mistake–always at fault for something or another–he had grown lax about such things. Perhaps he had been dealing with F'ur too much, the ex-Fortian was very in control of himself. It had only slipped that one time at the beach. But it went to show there were other ways to express dominance than beating another person into submission. That and Selenitas didn't allow this level of violence..

.. but F'lix had provoked him, right? It didn't matter that W'yn had landed on the beach with intentions of a fight anyway. The bluerider had just fallen into the needed role–some unknown puppeteer had plucked at his strings; making him fight just enough to be of interest, but taking enough hits to satisfy his attacker's taste for violence. F'lix didn't have to take the hits. He didn't have to fight. He didn't have to goad the other rider on. But he did. What the shards was wrong with him?

The strike to his back earned a terse hiss, spine arching away in a natural reaction to the pain–because yes, it did hurt. F'lix had not expected it. He shifted an arm in front of himself, turning the more fleshy part into the blunt blow to avoid having the staff strike against bone or against his stomach. It would bruise more colorfully, but those were dismissible. F'lix was too busy being.. disgusted with himself to care much. He had the right of mind to turn and twist his body around to avoid serious harm, but in reality, he shouldn't allow himself to get hit in the first place. He was quick enough to avoid getting hit; he was smart enough, as well, to not even be in this situation in the first place.

So why, why was he here in this situation.. was he really that broken? Still letting that man's manipulations alter his actions. Pathetic. Disgusting. It made F'lix skin crawl to the point he wanted to slowly carve it off himself. But even that outcome would have satisfied his puppeteer. Why, why..

Saboth ducked his head, wings tucking close to his slender body as Grinth landed, taking on a posture to show he had no intentions of initiating a fight. He only wanted a resolution. A deep rumble echoed inside his chest, not happy at all with the situation. F'lix idly watched this play of power, his expression slack and the confusion brimming in his eyes. It bothered him Saboth got involved–F'lix didn't like to see others hurt because of his own stupidity (And really, he wasn't stupid as just.. messed up). And Saboth was just trying to put a peaceful end to things. The blue wasn't battle worn, or combat knowledgeable, as all the others had been at Benden. He was at more of a disadvantage than F'lix.

F'lix heard W'yn's words, but did little more than glance side-long at the brute. Fingers gripped more firmly against the leather binding of his dagger. He could see it now, the play of motions that would be required.. even felt the desire starting to rise up. F'lix had seen enough of W'yn's posture and attacks to know how to get close. He was good at getting in close and personal. No, he wouldn't be able to reach the man's throat quick enough, but opening his guts to spill on the sand, F'lix would be able to do that easily enough. And once W'yn was cut, it would be over and done with. It wasn't a blow that could be tolerated, to ignore. F'lix could toy with him a bit, sever the tendons on his limbs, one by one.. but F'lix didn't care to make him suffer. He just wanted him gone.

But why should he let that Benden control him? He had come to Selenitas for change, after all, tired of playing their games. F'lix knew he would always be Benden.. but he didn't have to let it steer his actions, dictate his life..

Golden eyes narrowed on the ocean, and F'lix wiped the blood from his dagger onto the front of his pant leg. He sheathed it with an air of finality. "And what then?" His voice growled softly, a low raspy snarl of words. "I'll be dragonless and you'll have questions to answer. Where will you go then, W'yn?" F'lix turned his scowl onto the older man. "There's no sharding point to it all. Whatever your problem is.. I don't want part of it." He had his own set of demons, and he didn't need to be inviting more trouble into his life.

"So before the injuries get more than just a polite questioning," A wry smile. "You should go."

[ooc: Sorry about length, F'lix like to be in his head too much -_-]