Israthel gave a nervous apology with a shaky breath. The entire room dropped dead silent. One could hear a pin drop from each corner—well, each corner except one. The corner where Lyrian was still feasting away.
Those in Draco's group sized up the shaken Israthel as they looked at him with threatening gazes. Draco, a boy whose short blonde hair and vibrant red eyes marked his unique look, did the same—looking down at Israthel's feet up to the top of his head.
He then looked around at everyone who had stopped their duties to look at the situation around him right now.
"No... you're fine, bud. Just watch where you're going next time," he said indifferently, lightly patting Israthel on the back. The pat seemed weak but was enough to cause the boy to lose his balance and stumble out of the way.
