They are feral beasts in the night, screaming against the dying of the light. They will not bend the knee and fall, not like the Gods they swore themselves to! If they are to die, they will die fighting. Volterra does not want to die, but nor does he fear it. It is simply the natural conclusion of life, and if Kaos is destined to end him, then so be it.

He won't go gently, though. He will take down as much of the hellbent heathen as he possibly can, and he will leave a trail of devastation in his wake. Nor will he spend his possibly last few days and months just hiding away like a rat in his burrow - he will find pleasure in this apocalypse, and thus he feels no true shame at the sensations elicited in him by Azulee.

She flinches aside, and disappointment howls in his gut as he contemplates the notion that just because his excitement and never-say-die defiance is manifesting in the form of lust, it doesn't mean everybody else's will. His nostrils flare, inhaling the scent of singed skin and spark, and it only adds to the roaring bonfire inside his belly, his gut, his loins. She is a wild animal, liable to spook or snap if he pushes his boundaries too far; when has the Indomitable ever stepped down from a challenge, though? Lest anybody forget, he is wild too. His eyes are blazing rubies in his face, almost glowing against the sodden backdrop of his rain-drenched skin, and he lifts into a rear once again to flail his massive forelegs against the sky, as though he can paw Kaos down and crush him beneath his hooves.

The earth shakes as the titan lands, and he takes a bold step towards the spark-bird. There is no fear in his posture, even though his sense of self-preservation tells him he could be in for a shocking surprise should he push Azulee too far; he senses she will respond better to bravado than fear, so with a small smirk of arrogance he summons his magic.

He lifts a circle of chest-high rock around them, trapping them in a cage of his creation; it saps his strength, but he doesn't doubt he'll still have enough for the act should Azulee deem him worthy of mounting her. The brute takes another daring step closer, each muscle thrumming with strength and tension as the rain batters his skin and the thunder roars overhead - there's a dozen questions in his expression and eyes, most along the lines of shall we?