as we collide

*Taurig* · 08-27-2013, 03:06 PM

He had expected more Glaciems to approach first, but to his surprise and utter distaste, a burgundy shaded man graced the battlefield, his stench that of Valhalla. Taurig gave no reaction at first, that is, until the man started talking. 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. Sorry, sorry, just what kind of bitch-ass man looks like sir-prances-a-lot the pink pony? Insolent bastard! Just because he was the king of Valhalla didn't mean he could come disrespect his father like that! A threatening snarl ripped its way free of inky jowls, dark lips peeled back against ivory daggers, nape bristling in anger. Icy eyes flashed angrily, ears flattening against his skull. Who the hell did he think he was? His father had shown disrespect to no one and here this high and mighty so called King was throwing out petty insults? Taurig took a step forward, muscles tensing as adrenaline flooded his system. If this bastard tried anything after the battle, the Knight would personally take care of him.

Lucky for him, Argent arrived on the scene, taking care of the situation with words instead of fangs like the grey-blue brute wanted to. Gaze narrowed at the insolent King, mentally keeping tabs on him, ready to attack him with the first sign of cause. More Valhallans would trickle in and finally the russet faced queen would make her appearance, calming her excitable brute of a mate before facing off with Isardis. Just as the battle was about to begin, a flash of burned flesh caught his attention. Icy eyes danced away from the child-like Valhallan man, finding Seraphine's figure hidden behind the Valhallan crowd. She had spotted him too, giving him a brief inclination of the head in greeting. What was she doing here? Taurig dipped his muzzle ever so slightly, trying to give the impression that he was merely adjusting his vantage point when in reality he was acknowledging her presence. He would have a word with her after all of this. His attention didn't linger long on the yearling as his father and then red faced woman began their battle. He tensed, watching as his father went after the Valhallan queen, hoping that the pale ghost knew what he was doing.

A silent figure approached him to his right, butting his shoulder affectionately. Turning away from the battle, his gaze came to rest on the figure of his distant aunt Sendoa, sister to his father. He reached down towards her, taking one of her ears and tugging on it gently with his teeth, a similar growl rumbling in his massive chest in response to hers. Does he know what he's doing? He rumbled quietly, pressing his shoulder against his aunt's, allowing his icy gaze to settle back on the fight, one ear flicked towards his aunt.

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