The moment the news that someone had sniped his position, Maleki was fuming. Not at Barnstorm, he was simply picking up employees and had no part in the agreement him and his fellow mercenary circle had made. He was not angry at the other mercenaries, because they had an agreement and Maleki was just weighed down to the point of missing out on what he claimed. No, his anger was directed to the woman who stepped up to his side. In a single day, she had taken his organized life and ruined it. Everything was fine before hand, Maleki believed he was living well -and who else could objectively say what Maleki thought was well- but then the moment that this royal refugee showed up in front of him, it spiraled out of control instantly. He was not hiding it either, as Barnstorm treated Aleksandra as family. The rage was burning in his eyes and his arm that was within Stroka’s grasp was growing rigid and taunt as the muscled tensed entirely too much.<br/><br/>Then the offer came, all because of the bitch. Now it wasn’t just anger, but injured pride now. There was a part of him that simply wished to walk away and take a job out in the Flats. Sure, it was much more dangerous, but it would put distance between him and the former princess. The pay would be enough to just barely let him slide by if he counted his coin and shortchanged a bit aggressively. But it was the flats, and while his attire made it apparent he had taken down a warg at some point, it wasn’t an experience he would like to go through again without some sort of reinforcements or backup. So his eyes locked on to Aleksandra as his teeth grated during his response.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#0080ff">“I will take it so long as you keep her in the front with you,” </span>Maleki hissed. He removed his arm from Stroka and stomped off towards the wagon that served as the back of the caravan.<br/><br/>Once he turned the corner, breaking line of sight with Aleksandra, Maleki finally exhaled. He needed to compose himself moving forward. He was on the job now, so that roiling anger needed to be compartmentalized and stored for after the job was done. He needed his own livelihood to be secured. Then maybe he would skip town once he was done, try to lose her for a bit before settling himself into another caravan stop. But right now, he needed to coordinate with the drivers and passengers in the back, as well as the flanking hires.