After assuring Barbara that it would be a sin and a shame to take money that was by rights hers and hers alone, that it was against the bardic creed to accept base coin for any reason, that he didn't even have any need for money, Maitiu was now scoping out which shop to rob for breakfast for him and the kid. Fortunately, Port Ange was a city possessed of those better class of homes that took regular delivers from the local merchants, usually in the form of boxes of fresh bread, marmalade, farm butter, and assorted other staples. Simple enough: walk over, collect a box, and walk away with a purposeful air as if one was delivering the contents to where they needed to be--which he was.

Maitiu did not consider this stealing. Partially because he didn't consider anything stealing, partially because stealing, in his mind, should be difficult.

Erich had picked up a job, an actual job that didn't involve bars or drinks or women with questionable morals. Well, that wasn't true; he was not in Eurastad. All the women had questionable morals in the world except there.

At this point he had to admit to himself that he had questionable morals.

He was squinting at a hedge he was attempting to cut in the warm sun- which promised to turn into a hot sun later in the day- when he saw a redheaded faery reach into a delivery truck and take something while the driver was speaking to a lady-of-the-house nearby.

Faeries; the reason he was in this awful place and this terrible position to begin with. Erich didn't even think about it, who it was or could have been. He bit back a snarl and walked quickly up behind the thing, disgusted by how much he towered over it.

"Excuse me," he said loudly, his accent harsh and thick. "Excuse me, sir, I do not think this is yours."

Maitiu looked with small surprise at the box in his hands. "Bless me, if you're not right." He put the box back and took up another one. "Not payin' one lick of attention, was I? Could've as good as been my job, that. Good neighbour, sir!"

And set off, with the second box, at a double-time pace.

Erich didn't bother to bite the snarl back this time. He hated these creatures; they were everything wrong with the world. Why they even existed was beyond him; the Queen had been wrong to label them only good as tools... they weren't good for anything but stealing.

He ran after Matt, hand out to grab his arm.

"Hey!"

The box hit the paving stones and cracked; the milk splashed in a white gout, and Erich had his hands on a huge, black, angry raven who battered his face with its wings.

Erich stumbled back, hands up, palms out, to try and deflect the blows.

"Elo's merciful face!" He shouted, trying to grab its wings now, if only to stop this, to make himself no longer half-blind and dizzy.

Some knowledge cracked into his mind, and finally, finally, he realized who this was.

From worry and a little panic he went straight to anger; now his attempt to grab the raven had a lot more purpose to it.

"How the fuck are you following me?!"

The raven shifted back and suddenly became too heavy to grip with a hand. He landed on both feet with a heavy thud. "If I'd been following you, I would have found you long before now. Praise your pisspot god I haven't been."

Erich's eyse were scanning, instantly, the area around them. Watching for the younger one, who had to be behind this. He tried to place how the older one could be following him - was of course following him- that was the only answer he had.

He didn't see the younger one anywhere.

His eyes back to Matt; the scan had only taken a moment.

His face was sunburned; peeling on his nose and cheeks, reddened and roughened; someone who was never going to tan, no matter what he did. His clothes were mottled tan and brown, not black.

"No, you're following me," he said. "You have to be. What kind of deal did they make with you?"

His eyes glanced from side to side again.

"Is your son with you?"

"You paranoid fuck," Maitiu hissed. "How dare you ask me where he is? How dare you--how many of you are here?" The rarely used bands on his shoulder activated, creeping up the side of his neck. "Tell me the truth or you'll regret it."

Erich kept a knife, still. He'd run with nothing but tattered clothes on his back; he'd stolen a knife. It wasn't as sharp as his knives before; it was barely functional. He had it tucked into his pants and considered, only for the barest moment, pulling it.

No.

Wasn't good enough.

Couldn't rely on a knife to get him out of this.

He couldn't keep from scanning the street, trying to watch Matt and watch for any other attacks at the same time.

"Fuck you, faery," his accent twisting the words oddly. "If he finds me, the king will know. I barely made it out as it was!"

He hesitated, watching the bands move on Maitiu's neck. Some of the tense aggression in his shoulders dropped.

"Just me. I am not supposed to be here." He frowned, hesitated again. "Are you with the Eulen?" Against his better judgement, his hand began to creep back behind his back; the knife was tucked there, against his shirt.