"Ah, you're assuming that was the prank," the jackal-headed man says, with a dog-like grin, his voice oddly feminine, given his rugged, manly appearance. He seems to be counting down, ticking off his fingers, then grins wider, as people around the room start idly scratching themselves' Draiss will notice it, too, a subtle feeling, like something crawling over his skin, wherever the ashes of the firework fell.<br/><br/>"Erevan, Prankster," he replies, before vanishing in a slight puff of smoke, to get to a position with a better view of the proceedings, down below.