Dean took in the place with an almost bored expression. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the lavishness of it all, he did. But without something to interact with, something to do with it all, he had no sense of excitement. Halfway into the chambers, he muttered, “So boring,” just loudly enough that a waiting guard might be tipped off. Just for the chance to do something fun. Of course, deep down, Dean had a sense of the area (not supernaturally, mind you), and felt confident that no one was hiding around a corner and that no servants were plodding about.<br/><br/>So it was a half-hearted attempt, at best.<br/><br/>When they finally arrived in the main chamber, he looked down at the dog-thing and scrunched his nose. “Is that a pet? And what does it have around its neck?” He arched a dark brow and glanced at Donovan, shrugging his muscular shoulders in a wry gesture that managed to communicate the fact that he wasn’t going to mess with a drow and her pet. In Dean’s experience, drow killed dogs, but what did he know? Poor Fifi.<br/><br/>Nodding toward the closed book, Dean muttered, “Huh? Spellbook. Could be fun to burn, unless cheeky here wants it,” he indicated the besmitten drow with a nod.  Gods, he thought inwardly, how anticlimactic!  Just a few hours ago he’d been elsewhere, doing something far more fun. Admittedly, this heist was the work of years of preparation – one did not simply storm the tower of a powerful sorceress without such – and Dean was pleased that it had all paid off, but really? Why hadn’t Zozo been naked on her bed, waiting to be ravished by at least one of the two of them?<br/><br/>Some women. All bite. No sauce.<br/>