Joscelin was still on edge after his unfortunate encounter with the man who had helped him look for Phedre when, out of nowhere, a man threw an arm over his shoulder. He was obviously intoxicated and blathering nonsense and Joscelin had had enough. He reached up deliberately, taking hold of the man's wrist and turning out of his grasp, twisting the arm at the same time. "Elua, people here are mad."

For once the irritation was obvious in his voice. He was ruffled, he was tired, and he wasn't in the mood for drunk men to be propositioning him for licentious acts that he had absolutely no interest in.