He'd done it again. Judging by the silence that followed him as he crept into one of the smaller alleyways of the city of Ishguard, he was alone. Vox had shaken off the guards that were meant to protect hem once more, believing that he could very much defend himself. After all, he was the vile creature that they hid away in the dungeons during full moons. It was only normal for him to disappear a little sometimes. It wasn't like he was going to transform in the middle of the street. And he would be careful and look out for any murderers. Not that he knew what murderers looked like. Apparently nowadays they could be anybody.

As the royal nephew snuck out of the alleyway, he saw the gates that gave entrance and exit to the city looming in the distance. Sure, why not go for a beautiful walk outside? Some fresh country air surely would do him good. Then finally some red would go on his cheeks instead of the constant pale white and dark circles that were permanently stuck under his eyes. Then maybe his family would be a little proud of him.

Vox hurried along, ignoring most people as he crossed the streets and made his way further out of the city. It wasn't until he was almost there that he noticed something strange. A bag right in front of his feet. A small one. Probably held some coins or other valuables. Shiny things. Vox looked at how it was stuck in the mud and then looked up at the woman across from it. "Well usually I have to steal things like these, it isn't every day that they just drop in front of my feet," he joked with a lazy smile.

Was he going to grab the bag and run off? Probably not. It was a long run back to the castle and on the way towards it there would be an awful lot of guards. And wether he was royalty or not, they wouldn't really make an exception for him. Maybe they wouldn't cut off a finger or a hand, but they sure would him behind bars for a little while. Just until one of his family members would come and pick him up. He would get a stern look and some scolding, he would be told how dangerous and reckless he was. And then they would hug it out and Vox would d it all again tomorrow.

But this stranger already warned him. Screaming loud, he wondered if he could match her. "I'm not sure about the hand thing, but I definitely can guess they would happily throw me back behind bars again," he spoke with an eyebrow wiggle. Then he bent through his knees to pick up the muddied bag, handing it back to her. Vox barely cared about getting himself dirty. "There we go, all yours," the young man said, baring no mind to how dirty the leather bag was now. "On one condition, though," he then said, pulling the bag back when she would reach for it, looking at her mischievously.

There was no reason for him to be this annoying. But after all those years of feeling lost and distrusting of his surroundings, this was his way to cope. Vox was simply someone who just loved to get all the attention he could get. Right now this woman was his unfortunate victim. By the looks of it, she looked less and less amused by their accidental meeting. That only made the grin on his lips even wider.

The woman was smaller than him and that put her at a grave disadvantage. For example, it was incredibly easy for him to keep the bag out of reach. Vox even dared to wiggle it a little a bit in his hand, just out of spite. "I was hoping you'd say that," Vox grinned, twirling the bag before hopping it from one hand to the other. "I want something from this bag. Something that is yours." At that point he tossed the bag back to the woman, a little unprompted. "Small, big, whatever you want." With those words he crossed his arms, kept grinning and patiently waited for her answer.

For Vox it felt good to do this. Everyone around the castle was moping and being sad about the death of his nephew, or their brother, or their son. Vox was done dealing with grief. He'd been dealing with those feelings for years and no one had bat an eye. And now suddenly his nephew was dead and everyone had to cry and be sad about it. To him that felt unfair. But he would never speak those words. He would forever pretend to be the happy, chaotic and dumb nephew. Mostly because he indeed was chaotic and dumb, and often very happy as well.

The man tilted his head when she didn't agree to his request. So she had some fight left in her after all. He wouldn't really have guessed that, with her height and all. Bemused at her empty threads he raised his brow. "But what if I want to see you get nasty, huh?" he grinned, implying both things that could be implied with that word. "I'm holding all your cards, lady. Or well, bag, I guess. Bag is a more fitting word, don't you think?" Vox mused, temporarily wandering off the topic they were talking about, distracted by his own thoughts.