Phury stepped up in front of her, blocking the view as leaned down and put his mouth right to Throe's ear. As he squeezed Throe's biceps until it screamed in pain, the Brother growled softly, "You get hard and I'll castrate you as soon as she leaves." Well .. If that wasn't crystal clear.

You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.

Oh… God. What was a male supposed to do in this situation? "I'm sorry," he muttered. "If I… uh, hurt your feelings or something." She glared at him. "I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated.

Love was worth sacrificing for, he thought as he left his room. Even if it wasn't yours. -Phury's thoughts

Hey, no offense, but do you mind if you put both your palms where I can see ’em?

It...is for me?" "Aye. So what say you, lover mine.

No stonger allies no greater friends no bigger fighters of honor could a king behould then these assembled afore me mine brothers mine blood