didn't know what I was in for

Training. Dread feels like he's been slacking on the whole training thing, at least lately. Andromeda was lightyears ahead of him... he could only hope to stack up sooner rather than later. Dragging the other boys into sparring with him would probably be good, and he had Bronze here and now. Maybe he'd even want to do more, as time went on. That would be cool. He seems normal enough, and Dread considers that maybe he should be more social. Shit, right, he needed to be back in his own head. Mind back on the fight before him.

They both stumbled, staggered by the impact. It feels... good. Genuinely, it feels good. Dread is grateful for the exercise, and he can feel the ache bloom where the impact had reached his shoulder and chest. It's a good pain. He's earned it. He's still earning it. Bronze lunges forward to take him by the muzzle, and Dread isn't quick enough to dodge out of the way. At the painful sensation of teeth against the sensitive skin, he gives a soft growl. The yearling took a big step forward, striking out with his paws in the direction of the man's shoulder. It's an attempt to push him away, to gain ground back. Gritting his teeth through the stinging sensation, he presses on.

"Dread Fatalis"