When Vlad moved his hand to his swordhilt, the discipline in Khalad reacted. It saw Melost as a friend, and Vlad as a potential foe, and when the foe made any threatening gestures, Khalad reacted. In a quick move, he was next to Melost, his hand had already drawn his sword several inches out of its scabbard.
Vlad looked at the young man, who dared to threaten him. But his usual mock was forgotten, for he could see Khalad was serious; and although the outlaw leader did not fear a fight against Khalad, he didn't want one right now, especially not with the elf next to him, since Melost would probably side with Khalad if the latter was in a fight.
Growling, he relaxed in his position, and let his hand drop. "No need to be so tense, Khalad. Me and the elf was merely having a little chat."
Khalad did not reply, though he was inclined to speak back. He had not reacted wrongly; Vlad was acting strangely, and though it seemed unlikely he would attack Melost after his trouble of keeping him alive, it was impossible to analyse the brigand's mind. Too much had happened in the last few days that was unlike Vlad, to make Khalad trust the bandit.
He let go of his sword though, and it slipped back into its scabbard. His cold eyes looked upon Vlad, until he shrugged his shoulders and turned around, walking away a bit before he sat down on a stone, pulled forth a dagger and a whetstone, and used the latter on the former.
Khalad also relaxed, now that the tension of the situation was gone, but he looked around in the camp. The other outlaws were acting like Vlad; incomprehensibly. And when Khalad dwelt on that thought, he guessed that he himself was also acting unusual.
"All that, because I found a wounded elf. If it wasn't so bitter, I could have made into a good song; though the ending would likely be a sad one." He thought, and smiled grim at the strange idea.
[ August 26, 2003: Message edited by: Daniel Telcontar ]
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