See you on the Malibu beach

Like dominoes toppling one after the other to reveal intricate patterns, the old man spilled his guts and a few of the puzzle pieces started to fall into place, but rather than rendering sympathy from the yearling raider, instead her face twisted in disgust. Was this what had Dread so sad? This bitter, twisted old man would rather live with ghosts than live, actually live and experience life with the legacy of his dead wife? It only solidified her belief that he'd be better off with them. "Sad story, but yer son shouldn' have ter suffer fer it. Yer should give him a chance ter live outta her shadow." Nobody would look at him like he was some haunting reminder of a dead woman... anywhere else except there... well, maybe anywhere that wasn't an ally of his father.

Deluge didn't mind the bite of the knife, but she would turn her small, hooked antlers towards the warlord's cheek with more force than she had gone into their spar with to push his teeth away from her throat and closer to her shoulder. She leaned into the old man's attack bringing their chests together, swiping at ribs with claws exposed, teeth snapping at fur and flesh as a growl rumbled deep in her chest. She hoped he'd end up drooling for days.