（ cy sits one of the glasses down on the end table at the foot of the bed, and settles into a lazy slouch in the chair, drinking the other. there's a scuff of sound as he kicks his boots off, and then lifts his legs to rest his feet on the bed. ）

Ah, （ an enlightened sound of one given clarity. ） I see. They told me you were prideful.

（ there's a suck of his teeth that follows a long draught of the wine, and then that glass too is set aside. ）

Credit where it's due. （ he leans forward, letting one hand settle against sasuke's ankle, skirting up his calf, the hollow of his bent knee, his thigh. ） You put up a good fight. How many of my men did you kill?