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Léof frowned faintly at Coenred's and Scyrr's retreating backs. The captain's words echoed in Leof's mind: “What’re you doing picking on a lad, Scyrr?” It was just like he'd said to Thornden earlier: to nearly all these newcomers, that's all he was. A lad, only to be picked on or dismissed. Maybe Scyrr wasn't so far gone in his accusations, thought Léof bitterly. Scyrr indeed was not the only one he wished gone. The truth was rather backwards from that – Quin was the only one he wished to stay. Was Quin's presence worth theirs? He wasn't sure.
He guessed that meant it was fortunate it was not his choice to make.
And it was still possible that he could get them all to see him and listen to him. He had ideas. They just needed to be put in place.
Recalling his earlier resolve helped him shake off the whole confrontation and sit back down at the table to enjoy the feast, if less jovially than before. “Well,” he said, “I guess that Scyrr pretty well just proved my point... looks like the riders still aren't too happy with me.” He looked over at Quin. "Or you either, now. I hope they won't cause trouble for you."
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