It was easy to come to attention. Eyes lowered to stare at the cane, and Dylan reached out to wrap a hand around the long piece of what seemed like wood. It wasn't at all. Smooth, hard, and unexpectedly heavy, there was no denying that it would be difficult to wield because of that. "I didn't ask you to. All I want to know is how I can save my skin from those things if I have to. Is that asking so bloody much? I don't think so." He couldn't help being abrasive. Dylan's voice was far from smooth. It was husky, and low, warm and kind of like whiskey. Still, he tried to disguise that. He hated sounding like a country hick.

"No way am I moving though. Not unless there's no other way I could live. "