The Wrathful Warlock is standing quietly in the corner, idly punching a slave in the face and muttering angrily to herself, when she notices the Thaumaturge. Turning to face the slender young woman, the Warlock's features twitch with rage.
You lookin' at me, are ya?!
Reckon you's some kind of tough cookie, eh?!!
Reckon you's got what it takes to dance with me, do ya?!!!!
Well, go right ahead and try, why don't ya?!!!!!
You and all ya friends!!!!!!!
One at a time or all at once, I'll murder the damned lot of ya!!!!!!!!
Only then does the Warlock notice the Druid, at which point she suddenly goes very calm, her twisted features softening into something that looks more like peaceful serenity. Slowly, she steps towards the Druid, keeping her eyes on him the whole time, moving closer until her nose is almost touching his. This time, when she speaks it is so quiet as to be barely audible to anyone else...
I do hope you've been looking after yourself, Darth Feather, my very, very, very good friend. These must be stressful times for a man of your... advancing years. Puts a terrible strain on the heart, so I understand. Do, please, be careful. So very, very, very careful...