Thornton has never cared for the Underworld Market.
It's filled with opportunistic, quick-tempered imbeciles. He half-expects a shootout to erupt whenever he's down here. Thornton raises a brow indignantly at a red-skinned demon; honestly, he doesn't know why he bothers with this lot. (Morons, all of them.) Straightening his black tie, Thornton sweeps the marketplace with a steely gaze.
(Where is that little shit?)
Ezra's the little shit in question. While he finds the demon's ambition and laser-focus commendable, Thornton feels uneasy around him. Not scared, no. Deeply uneasy. There's a quiet rage simmering in Ezra. It puts Thornton on edge; what's he capable of? Thornton has survived for a long while because he's kept away from explosive types.
Ezra's a ticking bomb with a cherub face.
"I hope we happen upon this friend of yours soon."
Thornton, face screwed into an incredulous look, turns around.
"If not, I may have a purchase to make."
(Who the fuck is this?) Thornton rolls his eyes. Naturally, this meeting wouldn't be a one-and-done type of deal. Now he has to size-up Ezra's acquaintance and factor in what his appearance here means. "Plenty of purchases to be made," he says, drinking in the sight of Sage.
"Take your pick."
Dark eyes shifting to Ezra, he speaks: "Nice work with the amulet."