[His faster healing capabilities will have to be displayed at another time, because they aren’t so easily revealed by the hand of a petty thief grasping for his knife. The flicker of movement, a rustling of boots pushing against the ground — that is absolutely all that’s required to tip Ardyn off to the motives of the other man. The one with the blade pressed against his neck is easily dispatched by slamming the hilt of his sword against his head, so that he might crumple to the ground unconscious, and Ardyn can turn and focus his attention on the assailant.
The man’s on his feet, rushing forward, but Ardyn catches the hand with the knife in his grasp. Fingers curling around his wrist, tightening like a vice.]
Ah, ah… drop it.
[Like talking to a pet dog, the patronization is so sharp. A stark contrast to the sound of something snapping, bones cracking under the pressure of his grip. Needless to say the man does drop the dagger and cries out; he would crumple to his knees if his arm still wasn't being held up by Ardyn, who then says:]
Enjoying the show?
[He doesn’t even look at Rosalind, but he noticed her seconds before. It’s obvious that he’s directing that question to her.]
no subject
The man’s on his feet, rushing forward, but Ardyn catches the hand with the knife in his grasp. Fingers curling around his wrist, tightening like a vice.]
Ah, ah… drop it.
[Like talking to a pet dog, the patronization is so sharp. A stark contrast to the sound of something snapping, bones cracking under the pressure of his grip. Needless to say the man does drop the dagger and cries out; he would crumple to his knees if his arm still wasn't being held up by Ardyn, who then says:]
Enjoying the show?
[He doesn’t even look at Rosalind, but he noticed her seconds before. It’s obvious that he’s directing that question to her.]