If there was one thing the three boys hated, it was being caught unaware in the middle of the street. The thugs in front of them looked mean and lean... not tough, more lanky. Aaron found himself smirking, and watched the punks start towards Zael.
'Hey! You! Yeah you. What you doin' in OUR streets?'
Zael and Aaron were both thinking YOUR streets? Who's the prince here, you or me? , but they both held their tongues. Zael had stolen a dagger from Graen earlier in the month, a bone dagger, long-dagger. He carried it with him now. He also carried his brother Damien's obsidian blade, RayVeth, in his other hand. As the thugs came towards him, he drew both with a rather uncertain air. Suddenly feeling a thrill of fear , he leaned back and turned his head and eyes towards where Aaron was, behind him.
'You think I can take these guys?' he whispered.
Aaron smirked again, and lay a hand on his brother's shoulder.
'Zael my good man, it's in the bag.'
At their feet, Ben, in black Irish Setter form, whimpered his disapproval. Aaron shot a glance towards the dog, and grinned. Zael charged the thugs without another moment's hesitation, grinning madly as the fake-vampires took out the fake fangs, and high-tailed it back to wherever they crawled out from.