Indiana Bones

Any hurt Tyrian might have felt over the barely contained laughter evaporated as Chaos zeroed in on one of Tyrian's many sources of pride. He paused digging so he could puff out his chest and smirk up at his brother. ”Of course I'm going to be a fighter.” He lifted a paw and looked down at his claws as though examining a fresh manicure. After a beat he looked slyly up at Chaos. ”Can't let these puppies go to waste, can I?”

His expression turned thoughtful. Chaos had made a good point. He didn't really need anymore weapons. ”What should I look for instead? Armor, you think? Or – oooh I know! I need something to make me look cool so I can kill it with the ladies.” Tyrian squinted into the hole. ”Think there's anything like that in here?”