Dallock rolled his eyes.
"You mean to play a game?" He scoffed. "Please, I doubt there is any information either of you could have that could appeal to me. Why, at this very moment I could be disintegrating the pair of you into nothing and then- oh my god, what the hell is your companion doing is he about to-"
And just like that, Miersck suddenly fell into another fit lke he had earlier, body trembling, skin going pale, and illness growing, twisting, rising in his gut, until he could not hold it back and found himself retching all over himself. ANd Dallock just stared, gapingly.
"Gods... ugh, what did he eat? He reeks of old sandwiches!" With a snap of his fingers, he called out to his brother. "Ethan! Ethan! Quick! Return here with some buckets! We have a moth fae to clean up!"
And then turning back to Mierskc, he made a face. "What is wrong with him? Did he bring in here some sort of plague?" And the man took a step back out of fear. Ick. The last thing he wanted to do was to catch whatever disease this winged boy had!
