It's strange, to be looking down on the crowd from this height. Not that Ashton is the tallest in the room by any means, and therefore neither is Barcus when sitting on his shoulder, but it's still a dramatic change in perspective. The crowd is colorful, tension and merriment at war all across the room, and for a moment Barcus studies the masks and costumes, admiring the variety.

...but he loses interest rather quickly, in light of the crystals beneath his fingers, and the warmth against the rest of his body. "Your friend is very lucky, I think, to have you willing to carry him around like this."

A chuckle. "I'm teasing. I don't know how bad your temper is, but you've made it clear you're a fighter. Dare I ask what happens when you get riled up?"

Aside from potentially chaos magic, that is...