"Can we get on with it, please?" Kevin snaps, turning away from the paddock. Seeing them looking like that when Oswald is gone is doing nothing for Kevin's mood. "I'd rather not watch you two be disgusting all night."

"What a rude little shit you are," says the other Kevin, sounding so similar to a Break that the werewolf can't help but lift his upper lip in a snarl. He tromps down the steps, nevermind the noise he makes doing so. "If you lose, that's exactly what you're going to be doing all night, assuming you don't keep us busy."

Through some unspoken, instinctive agreement, they move into position there in the backyard, giving each other precisely the requisite amount of space called for in a duel such as this. The swords come out almost in unison, with almost identical gestures, and then -- wordlessly -- the two drop into a knightly salute that's old fashioned even by Lacie's standards. Nobody who isn't a knight would bother with such a thing. Not even Glen, who favors his opponents with a nod of acknowledgement.