It pleases him when his son responds in Hungarian. An alternative language is a valuable skill to possess, and the goliath is careful to educate the boy about it regularly. Admittedly Volterra, at Zhu's age, had wanted nothing to do with his dam's attempted language teachings - he only wanted to learn of war. But now he cherishes the skill for the useful one it is, and ensures the colt learns it too...whether he likes it or not.

Kid. Is that the other lad's name, or what he is? The giant looks between the boys - the sons - noting their similar ages, their similar features, their overall blatant similarity. He doesn't know what to think. Isopia made him suspect he had other children, so this isn't as much of a surprise as Zhu had been. But it's still strange trying to make it sink into his head that there's more than one, that his virility bid the bellies of multiple women to swell. At least he knows he is fertile. When he is a king and has a harem to fertilise at his leisure, he can rest safe in the knowledge that his balls are useful for more than just pleasure. Already they have sired two, both sons, both strong stallions-to-be.

A heir and a spare, he thinks with the first notion of a dark grin twitching his mouth.

Which one is which remains to be seen.

Vadir circles above the two boys, her scales glimmering in the half-light. She looks at both with a hungry queen's gaze, sizing them up, deciding if they are worthy of bearing her bonded's name. She sniffs, flails her tail, and shifts to land on a separate branch to her red brother to watch proceedings with a cold eye.

Volterra, meanwhile, is half-expecting this strange new boy to crumble into his arms, to call him Father and beg for him to make up for lost time. A foolish notion, it would seem, because the giant does not see love in those unpleasantly girly eyes (everything else about the colt is satisfactory, but those eyes are wrong, that's a terrible shame). No, perhaps he is wrong to expect love and submission from the boy - but he does not expect hate.

The boy smiles, and maybe it's going to be alright, maybe he will gain a son today - and then he speaks, and the fury bursts out of him like a thundercloud. There is something horrific about seeing such a feral, adult emotion freely expressed by a child. The skull-marked boy is too young to be this jaded, to have so much rage inside him. Perhaps guilt should be the first thing Volterra feels, but it isn't - no, it isn't.

The first thing he feels is relief. Because, damn, this boy is so much like him. Volterra spent his youth holding all his hate inside, channelling it into savage, dangerous rage, always on the edge of an explosion. Volterra's father ditched him, too. So the goliath knows, and he aches that his son is so similar to him - not on the outside, because the lad is far too small for Volterra's liking, but on the inside.

He's corrupted inside, too. It's dark in there, and Volterra knows what that's like. He likes what he sees.

So he stands, and he listens. My sister. A daughter. Kid is even more like him - he has a twin sister, too, and the beast's jaws twist into an unpleasant smile. Good luck with that one, kiddo. You're in for a shitty time when she gets bigger and develops an ass you can't take your eyes off. The thought of a daughter has never really occurred to him, but he finds he likes the idea. Sons are superior, of course, and vastly preferable, but every man needs daughters, sweet little girls who can lull men with a bat of their eyelids, who can be traded to other kings for alliances and favours, who will draw the lustful gazes of high-born men everywhere....

Yes, he is rather glad he has a daughter. Perhaps, when this boy's anger is spent, he will be taken to meet her, to determine whether she is adequate.

Nymeria. He mentions Nymeria, and the behemoth's jaw clenches. "No, she did not tell me." She had plenty of chance, too, before she tried to lure him into bed and then into battle. The fact that Isopia and Nymeria both knew about his other children before he did leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and his ruby eyes darken a fraction. He is their father, and he curses his own irresponsibility that they've grown up for so long without him.

No more. From now on, his conquests will be tracked diligently, because he has a responsibility to the bastards he sires. He is not a kind or affectionate father, but he will be a fucking good one, to make sure these happy little accidents turn out to be the foundations of his empire.

But first, he has an angry Kid to pacify. He sighs, rolls his massive shoulders and glances up to his dragons, as though seeking advice. They simply shoot him sardonic glares - you're on your own, mate - and watch from their branches, their bright eyes gleaming hungrily in the shadows. "Kid, is it? I take it you know of me." Which of Isopia and Nymeria have been telling tales on him? "I know not what my darling sister has told you, but if she knows me at all she will have mentioned that I do not approve of empty words." The leviathan shifts, but his crimson gaze does not leave Kid's own. "You are angry at me. I understand. But take out your anger like a man. Your body is your only true weapon - words will only get you so far."

The stallion stands tall, his body spread and open, his defences down. His dragons transmit their concern - he is asking to be attacked, for no reason? But he quells them with one stab of his mind - I know what I'm doing. "Get it out of your system. Channel all that anger, all that hate, and show me what you're made of, so we can move on." It's that simple, in Volterra's mind. Oh, he knows how to hold a grudge, but not against a family member. If he had a brother, this is how he would have solved things - fight it out, then move on. Squabbling, clever wordplay...ach, it is for women and fools.

He looks over to Zhu, not wanting him to feel left out. "You may help too, Zhu, if you please. It will be good for me to see what you're both made of." After all, it is never too soon to give his sons their first fighting lesson. The beast himself began training at a young age, younger than Zhu and Kid - oh, he can't be having them grow fat and useless before they even enter their manhood! Their training begins today, and he is their crash test dummy.

That is how the titan comes to be standing, stock still, waiting to feel the hammer of tiny hoofbeats and the bites of angry, loathing jaws. His features are impassive, unconcerned, but excited about the prospect of witnessing the strength of his children.