Breakfast had gone over  well enough, as slow as ever, everyone still working up an appetite for a day's worth of work. Dinner was more of Kevice's speed, and when he wasn't sitting off to the side watching some of the arguments or playful banter unfold, he was getting rowdy himself, doing knife tricks or just generally soaking up attention. But mornings were always boring, to put it simply. The first real exchange he shared was when the human decided to ask him where Vasyli had run off to, and he had the audacity to be rude about it, provoking a "How am I suddenly his babysitter eh!?" Before recoiling lightly at the possible explanation as to why. Before they could go in that direction, he was sure to brush him off and walk off stiffly.<br/><br/>Of course, it would be like this awhile, wouldn't it? Hopefully not for too long, and Kevice only wondered if it'd stay at Osran getting a little pissy now and then and trying to rope him into it. The last thing he needed was for Mathis to crack down on him over rumors of events that never happened to begin with. What did he let himself be dragged through? Weary of if it would evolve, he thought about how fun it was to see drama from a distance, never thinking he would have to fend for himself in this circus.<br/><br/>Dressed and ready in only the faux lavish bottoms Mathis required and large sets of ink, he pulled his limbs in a few stretches and gave a loud, sure sigh. Another day of work! Just a normal day, and maybe after it was all said and done he'd get some revenge on the elf... Though just how he'd manage to do that, and especially after saying it was a stay-in sort of night to treat Vasyli after the rough experience before. The whole situation just made Kevice feel soft.<br/><br/>He hated soft.<br/><br/>The crowd that gradually grew as the morning hours went helped take his mind off of things, moving from place to place, pulling people's attention his way. Kevice played the part of a risque nuisance quite well, and it was his job to be unsettling. At one point he laughed and leaned down with his hands on his knees, bringing his face to some kid so he could see the stretch of thick wire that he'd floss through his throat and nose. A young boy, probably just as into the gross as he, but his mother didn't seem nearly as delighted, keeping the little thing from taking the invitation to pull on the string a little. Kevice stood and chided in his own playful way with "It's a damn circus after all! Not all beasts are kept in their cages." And speaking of beasts, he heard the muffled boom of the tent's music, minotaur had gone on, hadn't he?<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">-<br/>​</div>Rakkurat played his part frightfully well, but in front of a sea of tiny, city-born onlookers it wasn't hard to come off as a monster, especially when he bellowed a roar that sent the horses into a false flee, and picked up the frail body of his nymph in a seemingly tight fist. He got close enough to the crowd at times to make them shift back in their seats, at the mercy of the bazaar, being as rough with Aralie as she could stand. Despite his hulking figure and brutish mannerisms, Rakkurat was always the least careful with her, not content to treat the small girl like something dainty and defenseless. She was tough in her own right, and he respected her, trusted her, understanding that she felt much the same way. In turn she never strayed from smacking his face and arms, pulling his ears when she wanted something or felt so displeased with his actions.<br/><br/>But on stage, they were anything but equals. He yelled and huffed at the body in his hands, his breath with enough strength to blow her hair back. He tossed her, and she was talented enough to let her body go limp as a damsel's would, with none of the grace she showed on the horses. To the audience, she was at his mercy, until the later half of their act ushered in a change in tone. Her beauty an an asset, and her air of kindness a weapon to tame the harsh beast with.