The familiar face of Nyx’s white lion approaches. Blood staining his muzzle. A look he is all too familiar with his own companion. Déodat glances at the lion with a look of amusement for a moment. But his focus turns to Nyx as she speak. Her first comment elicits a smirk. Of course it matters he tells himself. Then she describes her former life. Part of him finds the description to be… Barbaric. There is no structure and puts them only slightly above wolves. His own parents had been a mated pair. A single unit pulled together by “love”, a concept more than foreign to him. Then she mentions they had to defeat her battle. What a peculiar method of courtship, but he knows it is the only way to weed out the weak from the strong.
“Well, I might not necessarily be worthy… But I’m never opposed to a friendly spar,” he says nonchalantly.
@[Nyx]
Bears the name of "Battle Born"