With graceless haste Angelus zipped towards the battlefield. He kept tripping over his own feet. The yearling skidded around trees and careened around rocks. He flopped down hills and tripped up embankments. When at last he flung himself into the battlefield the boy had to lay down for a second and just breathe. He didn't allow himself any real time to recover and instead just took a few deep breaths and then got to his feet. The Ultimus then shook out his fur, made himself more presentable, and set off for the gathering with a more dignified bearing. He'd wanted to get to the action as fast as possible, but now that he had pride to maintain, it was time to start looking like a beast fit for the throne. What he needed to do was embody Evangeline without the girly flounce.
There was already a small gathering by the time he reached the scene. Clearly sides had been drawn; there was already a divide in those gathered. As the heir his place was up among the higher ups, so he made a beeline for his mother's side. He made a point to pass his dad first and parted with the words, "Crush him, dad." With his verbal support given, Angelus then sat down beside Cascade. Young as he was he painted an impressive figure. If this somehow got ugly he would be more than happy to show the extent of his support through brute force.
