Voodoo nods, stare fixed squarely on Jerald - and as the group moves to depart, he moves with them, lagging behind only slightly to clap the Scribe on the shoulder.

"Wasn't your place to do that to my people," he rasps, voice low and soft, but not without menace. "Try it again and you won't like what I do."

And then he walks on. His own expression of nonchalance is more practiced than Jerald's - whether it's more effective is subjective.

(It was, at worst, a love tap. Still, you've got to set the boundaries somewhere.)