Al-kin surrendered the iron staff to the human with little resistance. It was the humans' village, their people, their world. It would not do to act in a disrespectful manner.

So, the high chief still sought to protect his guest. It amazed Al-kin that such care was taken in the midst of the confusion. Such humans were a rarity. No, such souls, no matter the race, were rare. To let such a one face danger and perhaps perish seemed unconscionable.

Still, to follow the high chief's directives and not to go against this human, those were also important. And despite the uncertainty of the moment, Al-kin was decided before the human referenced Mamoru.

"My sword!" Al-kin's eyes gleamed and a quiet nod to indicate the guest would follow the human's lead came swiftly on its heels.

Their not-quite circumspect path around the encampment only showed the same intelligence that Al-kin had ascribed by this time to the villagers. Whomever stood before the high chief's tent, it was rather safe to say that they could not realize the extent of solidity in this people, both within their own realm and their own selves.

Eager, Al-kin slipped into the tent behind the older human. Seeing the sword sent a palpable wave of relief throughout the slim body. Fingers reached, palm laid upon the green tinted metal and Al-kin's body suffused with a sheen that was easily no more than a trick of the eyes after entering a dark place.

Don't do every do that again.

"My apologies, ishiba" Al-kin murmured softly to it.

With a care one rarely gave such inanimate objects, Al-kin lifted the sword from its place on the table and slid it home in the empty scabbard worn upon the thick belt about the pooka's waist. Sharp eyes spied the small throwing knife as well and with a smile curving the thin lips, caught it up as well and returned it to its home in a boot. The dagger was not at ready sight and there was only so much time.

Al-kin's steady gaze lifted to the human.

"What harm in being with them, closer in order to be of aid should it be required?" Al-kin's voice rained soft and hummed with a slightly sibilant whine entwined into the whisper. Grey eyes cast over the human as if he were of great interest. But there wasn't enough to combat with what lay outside the fore of the tent. "We will have a care. Come. We mustn't follow the high chief's orders to his detriment, must we?" A small smile twisted that mouth and Al-kin stooped, created a triangle of light in the heretofore closed tent flap, and disappeared into the sunlit world of danger just outside it.

[:heh: I like to think it's because we're all new to one another and trying hard not to go "erk.. sorry, toes, meet heel. Bad heel." Or because we're all just that good. You're on it about pacing, M@x.]

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‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis