Dorian is smiling as Sera leaves the Bull’s shop. “My
side has that one for sure,” he says, eying Bull smugly over the rim of
his wineglass. The wine is a remarkably better vintage than what it had been a
few moments ago; Sera doesn’t really go in for anything she deems too fancy or
pompous. Except for Dorian, of course.
“Nah,” Bull says, wiping the crumbs off of the
table and into the bin.
“Excuse me,” says Dorian. “Thou shalt not
steal? Ring any bells?”