Oh. Right. Err... Guess the ice cream was home-made, Zero...? ...
Alternate joke:
As surely as the fiery bird had convinced the two nekojin and the Quillirian that she meant business, so had she convinced the donkey. Devon wondered briefly if she was in truth an angry mother, ready to fight flame, beak, and claw to defend two oddly shaped chicks. The display also brought some of the former human's own protective instincts to the fore; he had a brother, after all, and while he couldn't remember much about the little guy, he got a familiar 'feeling' from the two catboys. Or the 'at least one catboy,' as Dev had so far thought -- Ro had been right about how the flower made him look. Yes. The flower that somehow managed not to fall out during his trip to the ground and subsequent scramble. That one. If it was any consolation to the nekojin, Devon wouldn't have been sure how to respond to the Fairy Tale-esque monikers the twins had given him.
Though the more recent of the two, saddle notwithstanding, was soon to become more accurate. After giving a nod and a "Gotcha," to the phoenix, he took a clomping step toward Dalsh, ears perked and game face back on. Not to say he was completely in control; getting a little closer to those spiky and, now that he got a look, snake-headed tentacles, he was a little worried about himself. But Devon was standing his ground. The only hint of hesitancy visible was his tail's nervous twitches. Well, and the at-first unsteady tone of his voice. "R-right." Then he came out with more force. "Just put them away. Now. Nobody wants this coming to blows." Despite his fears, the donkey was still leaning forward, forelegs up in an aggressive stance. He made clear that if it did come to blows, Mr. Delash would know who to blame his hoof-related injuries on.
However... a) Dalsh would probably never enter any such straight fight, if he could avoid it, and more pressingly, b) Devon's efforts were both unnecessary and completely ignored by the Quillirian. The ex-human pieced this together quick enough when the lock of abject terror changed not at all as he spoke. 'Huh. Guess she's doing all the intimidation.' He didn't mind that one bit; he'd just try to help get the rest of the tension as diffused as he could. Then the maw withdrew its tendrils, and shut. One gray, tufted ear went up, the other sideways, perplexed. '... Well, that was easy.' Ears going back to 'neutral,' Devon knew that probably meant it wasn't. After all, tendrils or no tendrils, the only thing Dalsh needed to better resemble a cornered animal was a corner. ... And it would help if he wasn't the least animal-looking of the grove's five figures.
"Stay back." Cue the claws. "That's the idea right now. Let's just calm down. This was all a misunderstandi-- Err, what are you doing, n--" And then Dalsh's preparations were done, and Devon's ears, which thought they'd been through enough today, learned what it really was to be assaulted. Pretty much from ground zero, no less. At least Simi and the twins were better off for having someone in the way of Dalsh; it probably dampened the sonic attack, if only a little. For Devon at least, the result was what the Quilirian expected: the donkey crumpled to the Forest floor, hooves smashed against his ears, and eyes squished shut as though to keep the stimulation count to a minimum. He probably cried out in pain, but at the time, it wouldn't have registered as background noise to the furry and feathered ears present, and the unliving ones had sealed up.
Eventually, it ended, and Devon lay there, squinting up at Dalsh. A bit out of it, naturally. And wondering if the ringing was going to give any other sounds their turn at being heard. Also, wincing. Definitely some of that going on.
((And damn you, Schingie!
