rulingeternalflame:

• stutteringsoul

While not entirely new to this sort of situation, it still earned the gentle arch of an ebony brow as ruby set their sights upon the poorly equipped teen who stood in his presence. Such clothing was ill-suited for Kanbalar, where the blizzards reached an ending, and where the snow fell seemingly forever. As tempting as a comment was, Gaius refrained, and instead straightened ever so slightly upon his throne.

“For what reason do you stand before me, young man?”

His voice is strong, and carries forth even without him bothering to shout. It projects, reverberates throughout the expanse of the throne room. This man has stood in line for long enough in the cold of the city, he will listen to what he has to say.

One must excuse the look he was giving the leader, hands tied with rope behind his back, defiant air curling about him like smoke from a recently dimmed flme. Red eyes refusing to back down as a sneer curled lips, “Wouldn’t you like ta know?” The spirit didn’t respect humans, or at least not a good portion of the time, and with Emil knocked unconscious from the fight prior, it was up to Ratatosk’s dominance to be the blonde’s savior.

May Martel have mercy upon him.

The smirk touching Ratatosk’s lips was one of spite, demanding respect be given in a time that the other didn’t even know him, know what he was, what he could do or anything of that ilk. “I dun see reason ta tell ya a bloody thing,” a spirit had no rights to be held by man, not when it would outlive them all.