I Walk Alone...

Pontifex wasn't really the type of man to throw himself in ridiculous battles for no reason. At least not anymore. He might have done that in his younger years, back when he had been under the control of his father and still living in the land of his birth. But that had been long ago. He'd left that place in order to try and become a better man, someone who could walk beside his siblings without them cowering in fear or rejecting him. But look at him now, in the middle of the battlefield, being threatened by some random stranger who was apparently just looking for a fight. Only he would run into others looking for trouble.


The tri-colored brute began to approach the esquire, beginning to circle him. He could see the tenseness of his muscles beneath his oddly colored pelt and Pontifex responded accordingly. Nape bristled, crown lowering into a defensive position, chin tucked against his chest, audits pinned flat against his skull. He could feel the tenseness in the air. In any moment the brute could decide to initiate a fight, but did he really want to fight? What would Gerhardt think if he found out that his esquire was out fighting pointless battles with strangers? Certainly that wouldn't sit well with his king. I'm not sure what you look like stranger. he rumbled, his own pillars shifting into motion as he began to mimic the man's movements, circling the other as he watched him, hyper aware of each of his movements.


Talk like this