.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
Volterra, old friend. The titan cannot help the grin that flexes across his features at Toulouse's words; for all his initial anger at the man's vampiric fangs directed towards his neck, he has no real quarrel with him. "You bite your friends?" he remarks, his baritone earthquake of a voice tinged with amusement. The gelding takes his leave, then, and Volterra dips his mammoth head in a goodbye before returning his attention to Reichenbach. The rogue stallion addresses him, then, questioning why he should join the Throat. Volterra pauses for a moment whilst he ponders his answer; alas, he has never been a wordsmith and cannot suddenly summon the ability to be one simply because he is attempting to recruit. All he can do is speak from the heart, speak openly, honestly and truthfully about why this man should want to cut short his freedom and join the Throat. The Indomitable is perhaps the oracle on such a situation; he, too, had vowed to live alone until he could take a crown, never to simply join. "That depends entirely on your reasons for wanting to join a herd in the first place, if indeed that is what you wish to do. If you seek to climb up the ranks, then the Throat rewards activity and hard work; if you are content to remain at the bottom then that is acceptable, provided you still pull your weight. If you desire safety, then you cannot get much safer than an island that can be accessed only by those with wings or by those in possession of a magical key." His own key twinkles prettily in the sunlight. "And if you simply seek company, a family, then we all fight for each other regardless of our backgrounds and personal opinions." He is beginning to realise this, as much as he had initially doubted it due to events shortly after his arrival. He had not been accepted at first due to his unfamiliarity and the fact he'd jumped from wandering outcast into a high rank, but now he thinks that at least some of the herd would die for him as quickly as he would die for them. Ah, so sentimental! The leviathan gives a rather self-conscious snort and falls silent, painfully aware of the presence of Tiamat and this rather butch-looking stallion who might not appreciate such dripping praise of a herd. |
@Reichenbach No worries at all :D
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
