Roland is keeping to the promise of living true to his new identity: reformed honest grimalkin who has handed his ears down to the next in line, now living life as a candy criminal on the loose. Never to be captured, always escaping in the nick of time.

Inigo's plea for mercy is received only with a grin that could put jesters to shame. It's easy for him to be reminded that once upon a time, he could totally let loose and have fun, so long as these two kept him on his toes. The sour candy is used to taunt once more, throwing a rock in the air with his open mouth to catch it expertly, the crunch of it audible in the pop that it grants him, or the pleasurable wince of sourness traversing tastebuds. He leans one hand against the edge of the table, with one foot behind the other in pose.

"I don't know what's gotten you so worked up, pro." Roland smirks. "You're getting my entire pile of candy, and then some. Heh." You know. Maybe chocolate kisses are in his future, apart from three whole collections of candy that are for their shared taking. Roland only leaves with a bunch of treats they probably won't even enjoy!

Or so a thief will rationalize. Long gone is the lawyer, long live Roland the crook.