Red Light, Green Light

His fresh new muzzle wound was still healing as it had only been a few days since Ethne had raided them. Since that bastard managed to get one over on him. He was aware he had a lot to learn, but how far would he have to go before his father finally approved of him? He wouldn't admit it to himself or anyone, but he yearned for Ignis' approval. Craved it like a lost wandered in the desert that hadn't been able to find water for days. The young hellhound stalked the battlefield, crimson gaze searching with a hunger he hadn't had before. Looking for someone, anyone to take his anger out on. Surely he could win something, right? His only two victories had been when they raided that weird ass pack in the west...the red bastard son that had apparently belonged to his father. A half-brother he hadn't known about until that day. He still had yet to question his father about it, but Diablo also didn't particularly care, either. It was clear to him he had been stronger than him, so probably not someone worth his salt.

Stalking through the blood soaked fields, he threw his head back, a powerful call summoning anyone who wanted a fight to him.

"Speech"