The call that rang out, from quite a distance away, was a battle cry - but of a particular type. Not a true fight, but a practice one, something he had done many times before but admittedly not since coming to Alacritis. Curious at the possibility of a spar, he redirected himself toward the cry, his pace quickening as he sought to approach.
It only slowed when the awful stench of the field hit him like a ton of bricks. This place smelled of death and blood, and while he was not terrified of such things, they weren't exactly pleasant. The brute's nose would wrinkle, his posture stiffening defensively as he crept closer. Only when a male came into view, who he assumed was the one who had called, did he slow his pace. "You wish to fight?" came his heavily accented voice, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he closed the distance between them slightly. This man was smaller than himself, though certainly not small by any means. He looked like a good opponent indeed.
