Taran attempted to make sustained eye-contact as well, but seeing as the Marsubisu’s eyes were placed laterally on his huge reptilian head, he found it sort of difficult to do so. Additionally, Taran was painfully aware that the crocodile demon could shear his nose, and probably a considerable amount of his face, off with a powerful clamp of his chops.<br/><br/>When the Marusbisu made the comment about rank, Taran bristled. The air got pointedly hotter around him, and his fingers clenched roughly against the sides of his crossed arms. “That’s real rich, coming from a dying bre-,” he was cut off as the Marsubisu continued about Kaaminh the Night. He bit his lip, the sharp tips of his teeth leaving impressions.<br/><br/>And then he looked down. Okay, the wardrobe was something he could agree on. His tunic wasn’t so much yellow anymore as it was ‘Mack Black’, and a rather large hole had been torn in it when Paciano had hit him with his tail. He peered over to Mack, and noting his lack of a shirt (when had he lost it?), he unconsciously nodded at the Marsubisu’s words.<br/><br/>Taran shrugged at the words of expulsion, and turned before the crocodile threatened Mack. “We’ll keep this in mind when you send for help dealing with your Iryna problem,” he called, not facing the Marsubisu. Of course, he was completely bluffing, having no real standing with his own family. But he liked to think that people didn’t know that about him, if they knew that about him at all.