The firelight filled Hawk's wings as he spread them. "I made a mistake, huh?!" he found himself shouting, hoarsely.

"Oh, good one, Teige," Teige muttered to himself, grimacing. He changed then, in a flash of green, from rather human-looking to having horns and fur again. Before he'd even finished, Hawk had crossed the fire and yanked him to his feet by his shirt. Teige found himself lifted off the ground, eye level now with Hawk, who face had contorted with fury and hurt.

"That ent what I meant!" Teige said hastily, not making any move to struggle, merely gripping Hawk's arm. "Sorry, Hawk, all right. I'm�sorry. I know you ent a liar, I know that. Honest, now."

Hawk eased his grip some, and Teige felt his feet brush the grass again. He added breathlessly, "And I do�not�want to go toe-to-toe with you right now."

Hawk let him go, glaring, still brimming with anger--but he merely rubbed his knuckles, while Teige massaged the spot where Hawk had gotten a fistful of his fur.

"It er," he said, awkwardly, "it ent you that's made the mistake." Hawk wheeled around and went back to the other side of the fire, wings tucked again but fists still balled up. "The only people the Order's meant to go after is slavers.