The bladesmaster smirked. Typical. Proud. Arrogant. Overconfident. Any other time he would have asked Arthur for permission to find a reason to duel her, beat her down a couple of notches and then make sure she didn't climb back up until she had earned it every inch of the way. But he was in no mood for it today, so he just stopped where he was, spinning around, that smirk still on his face. He was deeply amused.

"You wolves? Us wolves, little one, or leave now. From now on, each fight you are in with your fellow wolves is every one's fight as well. You follow orders, and call your commanders 'Sir' unless you are on a first name basis. And no," He stepped in close, close enough that he could feel her scent. At that moment his eagle found it's high perch more boring than usual and it descended down to where it could listen to the petty argument," If I were to kill you, you would be awake, you would be facing me, and you would have a blade in your hand," His smirk turned into a snort as he tapped his weapons," For all the good it would do you," And with that, he tapped his shoulder and the eagle swooped in and landed neatly on it as Decado fed him a strip of pork, walking away.