Haggard breath coughed from the gold’s lungs. The hatred for his current state, which by the way, was the product of his own actions, was pushed all onto the woman. It seemed the whole world was rallying to get his hide and he would stand for it! The golden son, the pride of his trade and the fullest of his prime would see that the world knew he was not for the taking. He would see all minds who tried to steal him, or that which is his pay. A heat wave swamped his head and the golden was brought low again. His body simply could not keep up with his ego.

Muffled as his mind was from the stresses and strain of battle it wasn’t until Deimos stood before him that the gold noticed his presence. Jumping slightly he sneered at the black beast, for he was the last one the gold wanted to see. The last time they had met the gold thought there was no way it could be more embarrassing than that, but it seemed he was wrong. Looking through the smoking vision the gold spies sees the dark devil looking on him with actual pity. With concern and defense. It made the gold brustle with so much irritation to be considered in such a light by such a creature that he nearly completely outdid himself, and slid a bit down the tree. The golden was quick to rally in the danger of falling before the black devil and shuffled his weight, picking himself back up against the tree.

His earth eyes stared at the dark devil, with a hard, mixture of cold heat. Lost was its usual melting and soft swirls of gold. There was not a single effort to hide. “What the fuck does it look like?” He spit with venom. The anger of the moment lashing out onto the only one in range to receive it. Angling himself again against the tree the gold seems to drop a 10 ton weight. His breath spats out in the absence of the ability to sigh and he seems to disarm himself against the dark devil. He had not even the strength to stare down another. “This state is from my own doing. Thor of Edge agreed to…take a message to Cetan for me.” His breath rasped against his rough throat, strained from the day’s previous efforts. “Don’t worry though, I wrote it very clearly all over his hide so it wouldn’t get lost in translation.” The gold snorted, with a grimace of effort. The image of that battered, broken stallion though did him much good.

Raising his crowned head to at least a less desperate level the gold looks with a more reserved sharpness. “This wench dared to go for me as I left.” His harks leaning forward and body tensing back up as his mind remembers itself, and its current emotions. “What do you know of the bitch Confutatis?” The gold, speaking the damn woman’s name rose off the tree. His legs protesting with shakes, but the gold not relenting. He had sank down low enough in rigor in front of the dark devil. He would know this woman, and she would pay dearly for her attempt. As if on cue a weight pressed against the golden’s lungs and his hacked roughly, shaking off his balance and shoving him back onto the tree. This was the one they would send to serve justice?


OOC :: @[Deimos]
"Speech"