The whispered suggestions in the back of his mind are similar enough to the Matron of Ravens' directives it's easy to lose the thread. It's less death and more mischief, far more harmless, and without his sister to ground him it's harder to object. It's reckless abandon, fun and chaos for the sake of both, and gods, when was the last time he had any real fun?

But there's suddenly a giant of a man in front of him, blocking his way, and it would be easy enough to get around him but he stops for the moment.

"What is enough though, my friend, really?" He laughs and reaches up to tug the much taller man's beard lightly, and with a wink he's off again, pausing for long enough stretches for him to keep up but staying just out of reach.