There was a growing sense of silence between them as the pair sized each other up, scaling every nook and cranny of both their physical appearance and their body language, as well trying to seemingly get into each other's minds. Ashamin was small but he still saw respect in the stag and this was something that urged Abaddon to abandon his flight further away from the Throat and to stay here.

And then Ashamin spoke towards him, the blackened velveteens of Abaddon purely fixed into place as he listened to the starkness in his voice. His nod was then reciprocated by the hell boy, slight but apparent. Deep down he felt almost like the 'pleasure' was all his as he stood here, getting a feel for a creature that Abaddon felt like he could actually like.

When the topic had swung to the companions that lay before him, he felt a sense of envy at the fact that he could be as powerful as Ashamin. But alas, he was not going to be a creature that any old god would grant him one. He would have to find one for himself, but that was the part that he struggled with. Ashamin's explanation of how he aquired the two, whom at this point still continued to stare with wide pools, was fascinating. With a pause for thought he then replied in the same dark voice,
"How interesting. I have never been aware of how you become part of a companionship but always liked to have one," another pause caused Abaddon to gaze directly at Ashamin with the slighest of grins, "It is something I would be happy to compete for that honour," and thus remained silent on the issue. Abaddon wondered deep down whether this was a wise thing to say but his whole attitude in these circumstances generally was "fuck it". That much had not changed since he had first stepped foot in the Threshold.

Ashamin then smiled, seemingly keep to make his history known. He spoke of something that particularly caught his attention, letting his dark lobes flick towards the unknown topic to him - The Unbound. Without even letting his brain process the information, a loud voice boomed from his massive chest as he instantly felt the need to speak, "The Unbound, you say? I have never heard of this, but the idea of a band of outcasts is interesting to say the least," in a much quieter voice, Abaddon flicked his tassles against his rump, "It sounds a lot more fun than the herds..." And that much was true - in the seasons that he roamed these lands he had never had one successful fight if he had ever come to find one, and all of those spars were much more like training. The herds were weak, too full of their own responsibilities to care for their weaker members whilst playing political games against each other. These were things that he had come to resent a lot sooner than when he had joined the Throat. He spoke once more to Ashamin to show where interests lay, "I only joined the Dragon's Throat for its heat, the members are weak and I know that I am not one of them..." With his body stood tall he seemed to tower above the brute, his chest still puffed out and his once handsome skull with a knowing look adorned all over it. Whatever Ashamin wanted from him, he would gladly give it for a trial in the outcasts.

" . "