And so they have an accord.

"Terribly." How could he live, without the drama? It's like Balthier would just wither away and die if he couldn't be over the top and needlessly theatrical, no matter how much easier it would make life for anyone else. (His pride would never permit for such a thing. Ease! Gods forbid.) "Oh."

The sudden tone change is so abrupt and smug-sounding it's a wonder he hasn't robbed somebody right then. Balthier spins about, walking backwards aside from Martel. "They've got chocobos here."

You know, those things that aren't horses.