The blood you bleed Is just the blood you owe

Flare returned to his den, a little more banged up than how he had left it. But there was new energy to him as he walked, victory on his tongue and burning through his veins. He entered the den and found Demelza waiting for him there. He trotted up to the pretty, wee girl and smacked a paw across her muzzle. “That, is for not turning up at my rank challenge.” He informed her, and then grinned. Patting the spot he had just smacked. “But you're getting off lightly, my victory is more important than your failures.”

He moved past her, and continued on into the cellar. Moving into a box she was forbidden from touching. A quick glance at it assured him it was undisturbed. He flipped open the lid, showing some of most precious belongings. Including a very fine bottle of alcohol he had been saving for a special occasion. This seemed like the right time for it. He exited the cellar and placed himself by the lowered eating table in the centre of the den. “Glasses, Demezla. Two.” He ordered her. In this instance, he would allow her to celebrate his success.


"Speech"