rub some dirt in it, kid

"I am no liar," Gilgamesh responds simply, a satisfied nod of his muzzle toward her. His gaze holds steady on his growing daughter. Already so tall and lithe, matching a similar build to that of her mother. Would Korona be the fighter that Modesty never was?

Swift on her paws, Korona rushes him with those youthful muscles of hers. Muscles that do not have the memory or scars that his own do. Unlike Korona, Gilgamesh had had no teacher to teach him. Everything he knew was self-taught, but that would change with his offspring. If they wished to be skilled, he would see that they could one day best him.

As she nears, Gilgamesh lowers his own center of gravity, gaze tracking that she was moving closer to the ground. Indeed, just like with the boar, Korona was a clever girl. A quick learner indeed, but she would need more than wit to see herself a champion. When she strikes, his own muzzle shoots forward. Aiming to lean over her lowered frame and grab ahold of her scruff so that he can sweep her away so that she may try again.