Exton

Keon smiles at Nicholas until dmples appear in one cheek. He crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head, tsking at the shifter's appearance.

"Och man, look at ye, will ye? Yer quite the sight." Keon lets tears of pity shine in his eyes. "They've used ye hard, have they? Was it this Frenchman they seek?"

He takes a comb from his pocket and does a bit of repair to the man's hair. A handkerchief appears as if from nowhere and Keon dips a corner in his glass of water. He gently wipes over the bruises, playing nursemaid, all the while watching the man's reactions.

He sighs softly and murrmurrs. 'I am sorry lad. There is naught I can do ab'ut the wire. I am fae, twill harm me as surely as ye." Actually iron is detrimental to the fae, but Keon is hoping the shifter is as oblivious as he looks. "So now why don't ye be reasonable ab'ut things and give us a bit o' help? We know ye took the girl. Why did ye help him? He's a madman ye know..."

There is fear in the shifter's eyes, and not fear of Keon, not even of Nicholas. The shifter closes his eyes. "He'll kill me if I help." There is a certainty in his words.

 "Tis a possibility, for sure. But If ye help, I can smooth things here for ye. There are some who would tear out yer heart as well as listen to ye." Keon slides his gaze to Nicholas, letting the shifter think he is the only one who sees Keon's intimation. Keon shudders delicately, adding to the farce.

"We need to know where that creature has taken the puir lass. She is in grave danger with him." The shifter refuses to answer any questions, repeating only "He will kill me..."