A mob marches to their feet

'Boy?'

One would dare call the Divine outside of his proper name once given? Soon as the word of a childish nature left the other males lips, Imonde's where curling upward. The hatred flashing behind his storm grey gaze, his chin dipping to protect his throat, the hackles along his spine rising in his irritation. 'I will have blood,' the thoughts where tapered together, the saliva pooling between bared canines as the creature lowers his head to fall in line with his spine.

Clearly the wrong thing to say. Imonde could still recall attacking the girl Misha for daring to address him as one would address a pup. No, he would have this males blood. The low eerie rumble moved from his vocal cords, his body starting to quake in his rage. His ears would pull down against his head, his tongue flashing out against his teeth, the irate male didn't know if he wanted to fling himself at the male and silence his speech, or give him a chance to explain himself.

"We do not en-joy being called outside of our Di-vi-ne ass-i-gned name, we often gr-e-et such an in-su-lt with vi-o-lence. " How often one would mistake the words as being a threat, but these words where very much so a promise. "Other-wise, we are fine."

"Speech"
'thoughts'