These Gangstas Ride Rockets, They Takin' Off! [Abraxas, Any Brave Souls]

The young ones had wandered towards the queen, or so they said. From the sound of it, they still had much training left to complete. The burly, bristling form of the older male was definitely not the queen or her children. A soft snigger dared escape the jaws of the beast, who prowled forth with a rather sinister expression. They would find something else to do, later on. For now, they wanted to see Ashiel in action. See if his mother was right to nudge him towards Amon's position. That he might claim the position over Amon's own blood was debatable, as the boy lurked nearby himself. Awaiting a moment to strike, perhaps. Granted, Kaine was not the sort to judge anyone. They were a walking disaster, destroying enough to be formidable but not enough to be notable. A bland face among the many Abraxas.

A hungry grin stretched across their jaws, tongue swiping over their jowls. One of Amon's brood had joined in, goading Ashiel to make a move. "Come now, nephew. Christen your first war with the blood of the old war horse, and let us lay the rest to waste." The titan could only assume that the pale, scarred male was such. How else would he become so mangled? To watch Ashiel destroy him would be delightful, and a wonderful way to begin the destruction of the mortal pack.