10-21-2013, 06:57 PM
Crispin noted approvingly that the stranger was very good. Much better than he was. He watched the pugilistic dance in admiration, even as he searched for the right grip and finally locked his arm around the throat of his two-legged steed in a sleeper hold. Spade's flippant grin called forth an answering one to Crispin's aristocratic face. "Oh dear, I certainly wouldn't want to be rude. You will forgive me, won't you?"
The question was directed at the thief whose struggles had turned to staggers as he fought for air. His only response to the question was to slowly sink to his knees and then slump further down into unconsciousness. Winters raised a sardonic brow and released his hold, stepping away from the prone thief. "It seems he couldn't think of a proper response."
Dusting his hands off, Crispin looked around to see if there was anything else he could do to assist his presumable rescuer.
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