Sleight of Hand [Rythe, Gage]
Gage turned his head towards the Imperial, and raised an eyebrow, If anything, the fresh bruises and busted lip should have been a dead giveaway.
"Got lippy," he said, a smirk starting to form on his face. "Seems like all the guards ‘round here have a stick up their arse."
Rythe’s shoulder shook in soundless laughter and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed so he could sit up. Once sitting, he eyed his cellmate over more thoroughly and let out a short laugh at Gage’s last comment.
"Just a stick?" he snorted and shook his head. "More like a tree if you ask me."
The Imperial ran a hand through his tangled hair before he leaned forward, his butt barely touching the cot and he extended a hand towards the other man. “I’m Rythe.”