Blackened ears flatten momentarily as a cascade of sparks glitter painfully upon his back, but that is hardly noticed compared to the serval's taunting words - words quite uncalled for, given the stallion's obviously jesting tones (which were a damn sight less offensive than Albrecht's, and they seemed to earn respect.) Child? The goliath half-wishes one of his dragons was nearby, to snap the serval up in one tasty bite and show him who is boring.

But he remembers how the undead dragon had taunted him before blessing him with his armour, and reasons that these omnipotent creatures are simply cranky. Who wouldn't be, if your one and only job in life was to bless gifts upon thankless mortals? So, with considerable self-control that he didn't think he possessed (he takes a second to feel proud of himself), Volterra inhales a long, deep breath and eyes the serval through his level crimson gaze. "You misunderstand me," comes the throaty growl, cold and monotone and now devoid of any humour. "I could not possibly know what I would ask a God for until said God stood before me, offering his endless powers to my whim. Not all creatures have one solid thing that they would ask for - some, like myself, see their desires fluctuate depending on the situation. For example, if I had just witnessed a creature slaughtering my child but had failed to enact the swift retribution that such a creature would deserve, then perhaps I would find myself asking the God to smite said creature or give me the ability to find it myself, as that would undoubtedly be my greatest wish at that precise moment." The thought sends a frisson of anger down his spark-singed spine; in such a scenario, no force on heaven or earth would be able to prevent him enacting his revenge.

"Perhaps once the creature was dead and my rage had cooled, my greatest desire would be for the God to summon the spirit of my child so I could converse with them one last time. Then, months later and in a fit of ill-guided hope, perhaps my greatest desire would be for the God to bring my child back from the dead and return them to my care. Do you see, serval? What I would ask for is between me and the Gods, because until I am stood in front of the God himself and given that question, I cannot possibly tell you what I would ask for." What he is attempting to say is that the mood he is in, the recent events in his life, would shape what he considers the thing he would ask for. Right now, stood here, that thing is a crown, power. In a week, for all he knows one of his children could be dead in the ground, and then his greatest wish would be revenge on their killer.

He looks directly at the creature, embodying stoicism as he stands tall and - for possibly the first time in his life - attempts to articulate his thoughts with words rather than actions.