[ The answer to that complaint is an elegant snort. ]

Maker, when did Flint start attracting such idiots? Those two must have the wits of a rotten cabbage split between them.

[ Byerly's tart words are accompanied also by a soothing rub to Bastien's chest, a little bit of physical softness to balance the verbal hardness. After a moment: ]

Why were you upset that day? When you made that offer about Bard-sign. It wasn't just our fight.