I bite down on Viscount Rossa's wrist, right below the cheap gloves. No more Mr. Nice Beast.
"AAAAGH!"
Viscount Rossa yelps, and his grip loosens. Like a demon, I squirm, kick, and fight free of him, leaping for the elf guard.
Except he's got swords! He's holding up sharp blades. I really did not think this plan through.
CRASH.
He drops both blades and catches me with such speed and dexterity that the local football team in W City would recruit him immediately.
"Your animal tried to bite you and get away," he says with so much calm that, with the pointed ears and the straight man face, I'm reminded of Mr. Spock. I want to purr like a Tribble. Spock liked Tribbles, after all, despite his seeing no logical use for them.
"He is just being ornery." Viscount Rossa's fat face is turning red. He has a roly-poly head and body. something I didn't notice before.
