Korsarro shakes his head before rubbing his temples, smearing mud into them with his small fingers "Just... Nevermind. I... I am going to my tannery. I am going to sleep. And by the Beessiah if I wake up to things getting even worse... I am going to skin you all while you sleep. You will be my masterpiece." Korsarro growls his words and spits to the side again, clomping mud through the already ruined halls. Damn that Janitor, was his job not to keep this from happening? He was probably drunk again. The idea of a man other than Korsarro being drunk filled him with rage once again. He stomps mud into every carpet he can find, deftly leaping over a small balcony into the garden where his precious Tannery was located. His beautiful home. He sniffed. What in seven hells was that. Korsarro found himself once again cursing Valetni. He stomped out to the hallway, following the sounds of commotion. He would have answers. And so much flesh.