"Does what hurt?" Zavros blinked, and if one were to ignore the shining golden icon on his forehead, he would still look every bit the humble, simple son of the man and woman before him. Yet the flashes of golden light reflected off of the puddles of water left behind, and with a start he gazed into it. "W-what the almighty is this?" He rubbed at the circle that softly glowed on his forehead. When it didn't go away, he just stared. He could at least understand why the soldiers and his parents were looking at him like he'd grown a third eye - it almost was one!<br/><br/>But he couldn't help but feel a great surge of relief. Relief that his parents weren't denying him, or his existence, like the soldiers were. No weirdo powers, no matter how great, were worth losing his parents' respect or affection for. "Just...just glad you're alright, in any case," he sighed, a small smile crossing his face. It washed away quickly as he glared down at the soldiers. "And not a peep outta you fellas," he grumbled, in what he hoped sounded vaguely threatening. "You tried to stab me! I just covered you in mud, that's all."<br/><br/>It was only because he was almost about to yell at the soldier that he spotted movement. The tribute - of course - had remained untouched, even if the snooty noblewoman had flown the coop without it. He could see the Guilder hiding behind it, hoping he wouldn't notice.<br/><br/>Too bad.<br/><br/>He strode towards the cart, not noticing - again - that his steps propelled him just a little quicker, a little farther, and perhaps left some imprints in the ground. "I'm not about to smush ya, if that's what you're worried about," he called out. "You might as well come on out, you know."