The feline stood his ground when the group encountered a new group of fellows. Panting lightly from the jog, he grimly appreciated his morning runs that he was partial to. However, having been given enough time to grow more angry and contemplate his current situation, livid would be an understatement when explaining Zahil at this moment.
“Oh, oh really now. That’s fine, yes, I’ll pay. Because, I keep ten grand in my back pocket at all times. Here, let me grab it.” Showing just enough restraint to not grab his handgun, he gingerly reached back around him for a moment before showing his paw again, proudly exposing his middle finger towards the thugs with a dull smile. Being behind Kitty, he felt pretty confident in the sense that the thugs wouldn’t risk shooting at him while she eyed the group and proposed an alternate solution.
Now, the Tabaxi would have loved to have a Mexican stand-off, unfortunately, his inner subconscious compelled him to actually agree with someone for once. Grumbling and sighing, the feline rolled his eyes and nodded towards Kitty.
“Fffff... Yeah, fine, whatever. I’ll avoid testing my luck this time I guess- wait, wait a minute.” The Tabaxi abruptly stopped his original sentence and crouched a bit, squinting his eyes at the thugs. Something wasn’t right about them, or, more likely, he recognized something about them. Then it dawned on him; one of his guards told him a story about an unlucky guy he throttled in a bar a while back, kept talking about his “lads” too much apparently. Broke his nose and scarred up his face. He later harassed the guy by calling him some kind of insulting name. Oh man, what did they call him again? Zahil bit his lip and thought before he nearly beamed with recognition, smiling broadly as another opportunity to release his anger presented itself.
So, he stood up and opened his maw as he began the statement that may or may not cause a serious problem within the next few seconds with a loud and deliberate voice.
“Oh hey! How was your drink the other day, Carech-“