““Friend or foe, Captain?” William asked. Devyl scratched at his chin as he considered how to answer. “Not sure.” He narrowed his gaze on the riders. “So what’s it to be, cousin Flowery? Are we friends?” His nostrils flared. “Flah-ree,” he ground out between clenched teeth in the lyrical accent that marked all of their race. “As I said, Florian—” “FLAH-ree!” he growled even louder. William laughed. “Well then, nice to know I’m not the only one you antagonize in such a manner.””
