“You've hit on me before. Now would have actually made more sense. I wasn't accusing you of anything. If I had worried about you I would not have sat with you at the den. Or gone with you at all,” Vasyli pointed out.<br/><br/>“And need I remind you that you were the one making jokes about sleepovers before the night even really got started? It's all okay until someone takes you seriously, eh?” Vasyli let out a little laugh, finding Kevice's reaction amusing. Vasyli thought he was going to walk out. He stood long enough in contemplation, and the elf wouldn't have argued if he did. He finally did come over, acting as if it was pure torture for him to do so. Vasyli snorted at his comment.<br/><br/>“Oh, stop fussing. It's not so bad and you know it.” His bed was warm and comfortable, a whole manner of decadent blankets layered around them. Definitely better than Kevice's usual sleeping arrangements Vasyli was sure. He hadn't expected the sort of reaction he received, not after the way Kevice carried himself easily through the night. Vasyli wasn't sure what rubbed him the wrong way now. Actually sleeping so close to a stranger, perhaps? Or maybe Kevice didn't like to be put out of his comfort zone any more than Vasyli did. He didn't ponder on it long because he was drifting, easier than the person beside him, and despite the other person in his bed, Vasyli slept like the dead. He didn't make his appearance for breakfast either. He'd filch something later in the afternoon, but more than anything the elf wanted to sleep after his long night.<br/><br/>Osran asked Kevice quietly of Vasyli's whereabouts, and why he wasn't around despite it being nothing unusual for the stand-offish elf, as if the half-elf would know. There was veiled irritation behind his tone and when Vasyli failed to show up for their practice, Osran went in search of him. He found him perfectly groomed in his private tent, Vasyli shrugging and telling him that he'd simply forgotten.<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">–​</div><br/><br/>Henrik was warming the horses up out behind the circus tent. While it looked like Aralie did most of the work with their beasts of burden it was actually their animal tamer that did the training and hands on work. He was a man with dark curls and a perfectly groomed mustache. He was typically covered in some sort of filth, but before the show he was in full dress, wearing a well fitted and sophisticated suit. The horses they had were not very tall, only about fifty-six inches to the top of their shoulder. They were wide and muscular though, perfect for pulling their carriages and carrying the little thing that was Aralie. Multi-purpose and generally easy keepers. While they had coarse heads they were flashy enough with their long manes and feathered hooves to help distract from their faults.<br/><br/>“Soon,” Henrik told the girl, looking over the horse's back as she stretched. She was standing off beside the minotour, at ease beside him which Henrik always found amusing because she was downright fearful of the horses when she'd first started working with them. They were as gentle as they came as far as the tamer was concerned and he'd certainly take his chances with one of the horses than the big hulking beast she seemed so fond of.<br/><br/>Aralie was still skittish and uneasy around them though she hid it well during the performances. She was listening for her cues as the music played out, coming over to lift herself onto the back of the bay gelding Henrik had a hold of. She wore something form-fitting, subtle curves exaggerated with a short bustle, her legs and feet otherwise bare. Henrik walked them into the tent and sent them in. For the most part, the horses knew the routine. Aralie only needed to do her part and the animal cantered a steady circle around their circus ring. Light and nimble, Aralie vaulted from it's back, performing various stunts despite the nervousness in her stomach that she'd take a tumble and one of the beasts would step on her carelessly. Henrik sent a loose gray horse into the ring at a gallop, and Aralie took the reins up to ride her current mount around it, soothing it's 'spirited' nature with her touch, leaning as if she were speaking closely into its ear before climbing onto the horse at liberty. She rode them close, and as a pair. Trained as carriage horse, they stayed shoulder to shoulder and she could now use both wide backs to do her stunts on. She stood, a foot placed on both, flipping to land on the gray's muscular rump. That was when the lighting would change and ominous music would play, signaling the minotaur to come storming in to give everyone a proper fright.<br/><br/>Aralie took hold of the gray's mane. Henrik was commanding the animal from the entrance, raising both hands and a long whip, though he couldn't be seen with the spotlight on the pretty girl and her pair of majestic horses. Both animals reared and Aralie rolled down it's back as she'd been taught, looking as if she'd fallen. The horses exited at a gallop, the end of their performance, following Henrik as he trotted them back to where they could be tied, offering treats for the job well down.<br/><br/>Aralie looked doe-eyed and fearful, sitting there crumpled and holding both hands over her ankle. This was the part of her performance that she enjoyed, far more in tune with her minotaur than she was with the other beasts, no matter how it looked.