"Might make it hard to fly drunk," he said, considering the possibility, the tip of his first finger resting against his chin. His finger fell away when Daud mentioned the encore, Victor blinking and quirking an eyebrow before looking in the same direction. The sight of a number of ravens flying toward them startled him into laughing, shaking his head.

"Think it's too late to make a run for it?" He didn't sound serious, and his relaxed posture paired with the relaxed posture of his wolf companion, was unconcerned. The ravens called out, a series of caws as they darted around each other, the lead few angling right for their small courtyard. He supposed the broken fountain would provide plenty of roosting space, if nothing else. "To think, the last time anyone wanted an encore, it was after a good wining and dining."

In that particular case, the innkeeper providing everyone in the company of the bard responsible for music that night a meal and a tankard of ale, wanting to keep them happy, and keep the business they'd attracted for as long as the sun hid away below the horizon. One of the last performances he'd given, with people he never saw again. Back before the war had felt as real as it did shortly after.