[ his palm itched, hand instinctively wrapping itself around the grip of kitetsu, but making no move to actually draw it. it didn't matter where they were now, or that their raised voices might attract (even more) attention - the swordsman's focus had narrowed to a single point, unwilling to look past the man in front of him. he had that way of getting under his skin, riling him in a way no one else had ever managed to match.
he widened his stance, unwilling to concede even an inch. the cook could shove his entire face against his, for all he cared - he wouldn't be the one backing down. ]
Haaa?! Who asked you to?! You're one who needed me to carry your shit for you, you twirly brow bastard!
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he widened his stance, unwilling to concede even an inch. the cook could shove his entire face against his, for all he cared - he wouldn't be the one backing down. ]
Haaa?! Who asked you to?! You're one who needed me to carry your shit for you, you twirly brow bastard!