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you will remember me for centuries
But, just this once, his hand of cards will get him further than his hooves of steel and teeth of menace. He just has to figure out what he's doing, how to play this game.
Erebos, on the other hand, seems quite the expert. Is he lying? Volterra cannot tell. He hates feeling so inferior, and his ears bat momentarily backwards as his brain cells trip over each other to find something to respond with. "She did everything," he purrs. "She was the thorn in the side of many an empire, the snake in the grass of more herds than I care to recall. She and the Basin's king did not get along, although I daresay she did not see him as any true threat to her - she thought it quite the delightful game to push against him, as she knew he'd rise to it." His voice is pure innocence, but his wicked eyes gleam. He fixes them on Erebos, wondering if the older male will rise to the insult, whether he'll let slip his masquerade mask and display the beast beneath. Does his unicorn pride and love of his herd overwhelm his desire to play this game? Of course, Volterra isn't lying - he is no good at that - but he's twisting the truth to suit himself, turning his own opinions into cold hard facts and wielding them as weapons.
@Erebos
[ 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 ]
