D�gmar vs. Hati for Marquis

Basilisk was impressed. The wolves that had come to join them were proving to be strong, and far more level-headed than he had expected. A slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he slowly slunk toward the two who were to spar next. He knew Cataleya's presence was strong here, but his? He swore he saw doubt in some of their eyes as they watched him, so silent and brooding, more scarce than he ought to be among them.

And that was about to change. He drew closer to the spar, coming to recline on his haunches. Though his stance screamed dominance, head held high above his broad shoulders, there was something different about him. A cool indifference than he could not shake -- a slight gleam of annoyance ever present in his eyes. The fire, it burned within his chest, fueled by the murder of his father and the disappearance of his family for so long. A thirsty for hate that would never be quenched, only subdued. A nod was offered to Daegmar. "Good luck."