He seemed like a good guy, Ishmael considered, somewhat idly. Or fun, and easygoing, and those were perhaps the two qualities that most mattered to him with humans. They had to be the sort who wouldn't overthink things - had to trust their gut rather than whatever they were told about vampires, monsters in the dark, whatever. Had to be reckless enough.
Ray Beasley, eh. He was precisely the sort of person Ishmael didn't mind, a truth confirmed by the fact he was already mustering up jokes about this encounter. No hard feelings indeed!
"Guess you could say that," he agreed, at the first remark, and offered a toothy grin at the second. "Ali," he said, jerking a thumb at himself - although he wasn't lying about his name here out of fear or being named and shamed for attacking strangers in the streets or anything, merely habit - and then laughed at the comment about his hand. "Never fear, it's the thought that counts."
"Here," Ishmael said (thinking perhaps he should do something that was a little more than thought, since the man had been so amenable), flicking out a coin from his pocket and towards Beasley in a lazy arc, "better have that as my apology. For getting it sorted. Wouldn't want you to forfeit your next match." Also he didn't look much like a man who could afford hospital bills of any sort. Or cast a bone-fixing spell of his own. Just Ishmael's impression.
Ray Beasley, eh. He was precisely the sort of person Ishmael didn't mind, a truth confirmed by the fact he was already mustering up jokes about this encounter. No hard feelings indeed!
"Guess you could say that," he agreed, at the first remark, and offered a toothy grin at the second. "Ali," he said, jerking a thumb at himself - although he wasn't lying about his name here out of fear or being named and shamed for attacking strangers in the streets or anything, merely habit - and then laughed at the comment about his hand. "Never fear, it's the thought that counts."
"Here," Ishmael said (thinking perhaps he should do something that was a little more than thought, since the man had been so amenable), flicking out a coin from his pocket and towards Beasley in a lazy arc, "better have that as my apology. For getting it sorted. Wouldn't want you to forfeit your next match." Also he didn't look much like a man who could afford hospital bills of any sort. Or cast a bone-fixing spell of his own. Just Ishmael's impression.
