When the cursed male spoke, his brows knitted together. His mother had tortured him? It didn't seem out of the question, since white pups were a sign of their parents failure to please the gods. While he had never heard of mothers torturing their children, he saw a reason for it. "Well, you're a sign of your parents displeasing the gods, so I can see why she would do that. She should have just had the mercy to kill you though, not drag it out. But the fact that you are still here, its unheard of." Well, at least for him back home. Here it may be different, perhaps the gods touch didn't reach this far. He pondered over this fact, staying standing as he was looming over the other male. But when the brute spoke again, a loud snarl ripped from his mouth, hackles standing on end. "How dare you insult me, you cursed lowlife!" He growled, taking two more steps towards the pale stranger. He was asking for it, and Gwen didn't have an issue showing him his strength. "I have no issue doing what your parents failed to do so long ago, you bastard." The large brown male easily fell into a fighters stance, it was like second nature to him. His two-toned eyes narrowed at the male, seeing what his reaction would be. "My name is Gwenaël, and I pray to Feridun that he may take your soul, even after all these years. May I know your name, cursed one, so that I can see to it that he accepts your damned soul?"
