Coward, that was the initial thought Lohen had in regards to the thief who had high-tailed in the opposite direction the second their eyes had met in the evening. A sharp, piercing glance had caught the sight of gold, and like any good knight worth his salt, the vice captain had changed his objective to him. The weasel. The oh-so-agile runner who had jumped and ducked, crawled and slid ... right into the palm of his hand, with silver heel meeting straight with the thief's spine there Lohen made his move. Quick, quiet and straight to point, dagger in hand and a far too amused whistle as goods spilled against the dim ground – this little thief went on a hunt, and this little thief went down...
Cold metal pressed against the exposed throat, hair grabbed firmly in between Lohen's fingers as he held the man beneath himself. There wouldn't be any sudden motions here, oh, he could try – try against the blade that rested so comfortably against the throat and accompanied the soft jiggle of a earring.
"My my," Lohen tutted, crimson tinted eyes peering from the side as he lowered his head closer to the culprit's ear. "How lucky I am ~ two for one ? I was hunting something bigger and meaner than a petty thief, but who am I to turn down the invite for a good hunt? Didn't your mother teach you to keep your fingers to yourself? Someone ~ might cut them off, after all..."
Tiles and night air, the whimsy of idiots that leave windows open and unlocked, the ease of sneaking jewellery and gems into pockets, cloth and bags, the fun of skedaddling before the house-mutt wakes with a start. He was rolling in wealth the moment he stepped out again. Tucking a few gems into separate bags just to be safe, hiding them amongst roof tiles and nests for later retrieval, but the biggest bag was taken with him. Those he could slip into the market, into hands of passing buyers for mora, mora, mora. A delicious currency - the most used it felt like and so Einri was making bank.
As he travelled, the stars glisten, his golden markings barely make a glimmer towards it unlike the sun, however, as he flipped, rolled and slid into the next crevice of house roofs, his footing caught upon fence, just before he launched himself onward - and there, on a balcony above, an attic room - stood that creature. It was a glimpse, a passing of two eyes opposite of the spectrum, but the marking had been set. A sensation that blossomed like ants under the skin, like a fly near his ear, the foreign touch of strange hands on his nape.
Skin tightened, goosebump prickle and his breath shortened. Adrenaline kicked in before Einri could even make a quip. It wasn't like being spotted by Wriothesley, that man held a talent for making their arresting process seem like a return of home, but this place - that guy - no. Einri felt it in his gut, this wasn't a playtime rush of two small folks, but a hunt before he could even speak of the chase.
Speed, precision, swift and at ease with the world around them, these roof tiles barely made a noise, the metal poles and flags flutter in passing, flower pots barely shook on their shelves being used for grips, platforms and anchors for the next turn. Faster, faster and faster, the blur of bodies, the drop of earring, bracelet and necklace akin to rain shower as bag caught upon sharp edging and that fleeting moment of looking back with a curse on his tongue - he felt the weight of a boot.
Back arched, body pushed and flooring collided with his front painfully. Breath hurt, ribs shook and lips part with a curse of all tones passing through before his skin tingled with knowledge of what a blade felt like. This was no shave, no craftsmanship of removing hairs but the practiced hand of a slaughter that knew just where the carotid artery was and how not to nip it when plunging the knife in, if they so choose. Scalp aches dully as hair is used for a leash and well, as nice as that could have felt, Einri was trying his best to not make it perverted. This wasn't he time for hardened dicks whilst under the law's keep, and so he shakily sighed through lips, skin touched with sweat and cooled all the same, he found himself in a sensational vortex of confusion on what to bloody focus on.
Knife at throat, should be the main one though, but the voice in his ear was making him want to laugh, to jest and have a bant with this guy but also, knife to throat, y'know? It wasn't the underground, the damp water-metal world of the Duke's domain, of confused wants and duty bound lifestyles, but above ground in a world of freedom, twink archons and a knight force dedicated to make the place the safest it can be. Einri could respect it but gods, did it make him want to go underneath it all, take the layers of that protection and security and try his hand as dismantling from the inside out. Little thief here, little storytelling there. It was just his nature…
Back to the point though, as he laid out, hands firm upon the floor and scattered goods rivalling the stars above. Einri found his centre, blinking twice before allowing his gaze to trail up towards them when graced some movement. "Well, that big guy must have had a great time playing wit'ya… " Ah, gentle, gentle. The blade was still there, and it felt hot even though he was sure it hadn't nicked his skin just yet. "Shame he was nothing fun to hold you down a little longer, huh? Hadda chase lil'ol'me for more fun?" Tongue to gum, under lips to wet it up, to save some grace, to swallow down parched throat afraid the bob of his adam's apple would force a cut but without he could only sigh once more.
"Mother told to take what I wanted and don't come home, actually…" Though, his parent wasn't human, he wasn't to spill that info just yet, instead he could only agree. Having fingers cut off would make his thievery a little more troublesome. Not stop him completely, he's seen some amazing folks with talents beyond limbs. He could learn, if he had to be forced for it. "How about this… " Stall, for a thought. "…I give you the place of currently ongoing illegal trade annnnd you let me go for the goodwill?"
