The hellboy was becoming as relaxed as his rigid personality would allow his bodice around the fae. His new friend seemed to take in little of the venom within his words and he respected that she probably did not give a damn, which was very rare when it came to the brute. Ghost twisted her dark velveteens into a vague smile, and he cocked his cranium to the right in reaction. The heat of the day lay over his own brawny bodice and created the blackened pelt to shine like onyx. The fire burning underneath his pelt was being met with the beautiful flame of Tallsun, and he was enjoying this situation. Ghost was the sort of creature Abaddon could have seen himself walking alongside, like the terrible twosome. And that almost frightened the big brute...

Ghost's words on her mother was followed by the snort of humour and indifference and Abaddon's fiery pools lit up with the chance to add more to the conversation on this matter:
"Mothers are simply the flesh that gives us life, it's then up to them whetther they follow through on the task," Abaddon snorted with humour, "And it seems yours was not cut out for it, but you turned out okay." This for the brute was the biggest compliment any creature would get out of him. And with his lobes hitched forward, he swerved his great carcass to one side in an almost scarily flirtatious manner to the fae, an evident reaction from a very masculine stag.
Their talk of peace was one that the charcoal brute could not quite grasp the concept of. But he was trying, and it gave an element of anger to the situation, "Peace is bullshit in any essence," and a grunt emunated in a deep bassy tone, "What sort of army?" His attention had been snapped up by a story of war, and hopefully, the torment that came with it. He was now all-ears and the story was more than going to satisfy his hunger for the war that had not yet come to start.

If peace is just a deceiving lull that only remains until prejudice and anger becomes greater than civility and compassion, what's the point of war?

It was a valid point for any creature that deemed sane enough to understand, but Abaddon was standing before the dark fae. What could the figure of everything that war was meant to be even understand anything other than it? Her deep and meaningful conversation physically impacted Abaddon, and he took one step back on his brawny pillars, letting the dust fly into the air around them. His neck arched and his velveteen curled unattractively, unable to think of a good answer. And so the hell boy let out the only truthful answer he could bestow on the winged dame: "War is something that some of us have the only knowledge about, and I have nothing else." His darker side came out in those words, the admission of his one and only expert field. It was true, Abaddon knew nothing other than what he brought up to believe, and he believed in war. But Ghost's next few words were tainted with humour and he realised that she was trying to lighten the conversation. But for this he openly spoke out to her, "No one has spoken like this to me, no one has ever gotten close." And with good reason, a sinister voice rang out in his brain. He had no friends, no attachments, and what he and Ghost were sharing now could be so easily severed.

Her light and feminine tones asked one simple question: whether he believed in her abilities as a spy. And again he was unable to answer. He silently rooted for the creature, knowing that she was going to be a marvellous addition and help to the herdlands he was attempting to make great with his acts of war. Ghost was going to be a key part in figuring out his enemy and slaughtering the ones she discovered were particularly dangerous. But he decided to keep this under wraps, for now...And his attention was brought back to the real world, out of his dark thoughts. He nodded to show that he believed in her skills and said nothing else, waiting for her own reply. The fae then begins to laugh, followed by words that humoured the dark brute. He reciprocated her small with his own dark smile. He then followed suit and replied with an even darker laugh and flung his huge feathered daggers into the hot sand, "Like I said, Ghost, what you see is what you get with me. My scar means everything that I am and for many that's too hard to handle. My story is something that no one delves into because they have no courage to even ask," his laugh continues into a bellowing rumble, his chest puffed out with the effort of trying to hide it, "And that's what makes me think you are cut out for the job. You have the courage to delve further past the story, even if I won't tell you, yet..." A wry smile was let out from his velveteens, egging Ghost on to reply. His burn wound was only the start.

Watching his new friend wrinkle her nose at the thought of disease, he too came over with a shiver that resulted in a physical shaking of the body in order to be rid of the thoughts, "These rift lands would an ideal place, but I feel I could cause enough damage in Helovia!" Another laugh sounded from his blackened chest and he pierced his gaze at Ghost with a fierce intent of making his point known. And then the smaller creature asked a favour of him that he was quite happy to agree to. Who would volunteer to get battered by a creature such as himself? A fool? "I will spar with you, Ghost. But you should prepare yourself," his tone turned dark as his words became quieter, almost hushed, "Maybe remember how it felt to lose, you might just need that when we're finished..."
" . "

ABADDON

When two tribes go to war, a point is all that you can score.