Suddenly, the leviathan is bombarded with hungry faces from his dragons. They have spotted the creature next to Rikyn, which appears to be a stunted deer. "PREY!" they scream in unison, wheeling through the air and circling above like vultures to ascertain the edibility of this intruder. In his mind, Volterra can see them with their knives and forks out and bibs politely placed across their chests, their salivating jaws just itching to sink into the tender deer-meat. This time, though, the stallion does stymie them with a single deafening no into their heads, which sends them recoiling with anguished, indignant howls. Under normal circumstances Volterra would encourage their predatory instincts, but not here. Not when the deer is a companion to a man that the Indomitable considers a friend.

He looks to Rikyn. "You have a new companion," he observes, scrutinising the stag. It is admirable in its own way, he supposes, but Volterra sees little use in having a herbivore for a companion when he is one himself. Branch out, he wants to tell the unicorn, live dangerously. Go carnivore or go home. "My dragons want me to tell you that he looks delicious." A wicked smirk that is devoid of true malice and a twinkle in his eye should hopefully tell Rikyn that he's not serious.

His grin widens as Rikyn mentions their fight, and not holding a grudge. As the unicorn points out that it was nearly two years ago, the behemoth chuckles. "It was one of my finest moments, I'm hard-pressed to forget it." Summoning a giant made of earth and sending it after his foe had been a dream come true for the young warlord, and that particular magic is one that he cherishes. Rikyn inquires if he's ever killed someone in the name of training, and something in the smaller man's expression and voice makes Volterra pause. Is he actually joking, or is it a barbed comment masquerading as humour? Either way, the Indomitable lacks the brainpower or the inclination to question - he just takes the remark at face value. "Not quite, but unfortunately rough brawls are all a part of training. You don't get muscles like these by pulling your punches." He flexes said muscles, feeling a pleasing ripple as they bunch and furl beneath his black flesh.

The beast shuffles aside to make space next to him for Rikyn to help move the logs if he's so inclined, whilst he resumes his own assault on the topmost piece of wood. He is careful to avoid the sparks made by the kitsune, not wanting to scorch his magnificently preened foot feathers. "Care to lend a hoof?"