as we collide

He heard the summons of the boy king, of the radical that dare step foot on the soil, preach to own that which was not his. He had heard of the idiot, and if he was daring to step in arms against Valhalla he was a fool. They had allies that were as powerful as anything else. Though, admittedly, perhaps it were not such a bad thing...not only would it show Valhallans that their training was not in vain, not only would it show them that they had to be prepared, but perhaps they would understand that everyone who had pushed them was not a calloused idiot. Gideon, rarely showed a face that showed care, and even dedication, though this day he would wear it proudly. A snarl ripped free of his lungs and he appeared on the battle ground.

"You're the pretty boy everyone's whispering about? Someone should teach you a lesson, I'll let Chrysanthe dictate if she does it or I do," He stared at the heathen in disgust, in anger, and in complete and utter irritation. The day would sing a lot of things that were to come in their future. Valhalla was truly going to put on their war-faces for once. Finally, he did crack a smile, lacking the inhibitions to remain as stoic as he had wanted to appear, and a chuckle escaped his lips, "Sorry, sorry, just what kind of bitch-ass man looks like sir-prances-a-lot the pink pony?"