I witness him do a particularly strange action with a tree, plowing it over with his hefty body and holding it in place with his chest. My eyes watch carefully, looking at the way the thicker tree bends so unwillingly beneath his weight, the very top of it dipping towards the ground in its refusal. But it does not bow completely, even as Zhu forces himself over it— presses into it with clenched muscles and cloven hooves rooting into the wet earth beneath him. He slides back from it, letting the tree resume it's normal position— though now slightly bent. "Well aren't you a show off," I tease, a light smirk sprawled across my bi-coloured lips. I marvel at the strength hidden behind the black hide, at the way he pushes so forcefully into the tree, made it bend to his will (even if it was only slight).

I do not have such strength, not yet. Eventually I will be thick and sturdy (not as much as Zhu, but enough), but physical strength alone could not raise me to kinghood— I needed to be cunning and quick just as I needed to be dangerous and strong. As I promised to Nymeria, I would excel in both brains and brawn, where my diversity could aid in surpassing others who focused too heavily on one skill.

He finally notices me (took him long enough), turning with tense shoulders and thick head swinging towards me. Midnight ears flatten against a crowned skull, nostrils flaring from his wrestling match with the trees (weirdo) as his eyes wander over me. "Should I strike a pose for you?" I bat my lashes in his direction, turning to the side and flexing the unimpressive mass of muscle I've collected on my body (although my hindquarters have inflated more than the rest of my body). His eyes solidify then, gazing at me in stern displeasure (guess I'm not as appealing to look at as I would've hoped). Lengthy tail flinches, hovering over the ground near his ankles and rising the way his head does in an act of dominance— a sign of power over me. To think that he's the one in charge here, that he's the strongest and most deserving. Hell— I could choose not to give him my attention, to reject his title of 'friend' and leave him to his own devices. But his bulky figure and reflective eyes have caught my attention, and I don't think I'll be able to forget his face.

But just because he has a pretty face doesn't mean he immediately gets to assume the position of power between us. If anything it should be me (I'm a heir to an empire, what does he have?) taking up the dominant role (yeah right Kid, you'll never be a dom). If he wanted to assume this role of power, he'd have to fight me for it (not that I would say that aloud, I'm not trying to get wrecked). Not a sweaty, messy battle with flying hooves and blunt teeth— but a battle of wits, quick insults and intellectual retorts to which I know I have a better advantage in. And with Nym's teachings, I'm sure to become even greater of a challenge.

So that thing isn't his, as he explains to me in his childish voice, that in fact it is his mother's. Hobgoblin, he calls it. Is that the name or the species? In the moment he's mentioned, the creature sheds its skin, shattered pieces of its old form fluttering to the earth as it's replaced by endless black eyes and gaping maw. My eyes widen at the transformation, having never before seen anything like this before. "Cool." I whisper, wondering what more Hobgoblin could become. Were his forms infinite, or was he trapped to only a set number that were interchangeable?

Zhu's tone changes— not majorly, but enough for someone as observant as I to notice. It softens as he relaxes into a more casual manner of speaking, much better than being confronted by a tone dripping with venomous annoyance. "What wrong things?" I ask him, looking back at the shape shifting companion belonging to Zhu's mother, wondering what it was exactly. It was impressive, there was no denying that— but I'd much rather have something like aunt Nymeria's dragon, because it seemed much more suitable for me— a more natural fit. "What is it called?"