Though Gar did not know why, but it seemed that the elf, Eltharion, and the little man somehow knew each other and were not on the best of terms with each other. That would not do at all, whatever enmity lay between them had to put to the side, or neither would live through whatever was ahead of them, let alone live long enough to wreak whatever vengeance they wished against the other. Gar was about to speak up in an attempt to temporarily conciliate between the two, but then the all too familiar voice of the Tree-Leg sounded out. Gar glanced at Ktaker, who was closest to the two, and the Skytalon gave him a nod of understanding before moving to separate the two. As the Tree-Leg spoke, he pried the two apart, one clawed talon pressing down on the stubborn Griffith's head and the other pushing Eltharion back.

When the red-garbed man spoke about Gar breaking some kind of rule, the Treemind looked towards the child on his shoulder in confusion, asking if he had done something wrong without realising.
[color=f7941d][i]Yes, you're too bloody big that's what's wrong![/i][/color] the child's sarcastic thoughts came back, [color=f7941d][i]try shrinking six or seven feet.[/i][/color]

Well, he couldn't do that, now, could he? It was not an ability Treeminds had, as far as he was aware. He quickly realised, however, that the child was simply being its sarcastic self, and he quickly gathered that the red-garbed man did not seem too fussed by Gar's overly large size.

They were soon shuffled out of the small armoury  and a disembodied voice said something about those under a Lanista 'Draigo'. The Tree-Leg had not actually told anyone his name, Gar suddenly realised. Tree-Leg Draigo he was, it seemed. As they were shuffled onto they tiny cage - at least, tiny with Gar in it. It was rather uncomfortable for the huge Treemind, having to bend down slightly while also attempting not to crush anyone against the bars of the cage. The cage rose and the stench of the pit hit Gar like battering ram, and when he finally saw the blood and the limbs, the effects on him grew even worse. He gave a slight growl - or was it is a groan of pain? - as he tried to focus himself and expel the nausea. The roar of the crowd came to him as if across a large expanse of land, echoing in his mind in an almost mocking manner. It only increased his agitation and unstable state, and the tattoos on his body were green and dripped down his body like some kind of disgusting mucus.

His sight blurred and his hearing distorted and the smell of blood and death overwhelming him, Gar barely registered what was being announced, though he did recognise the rise in the crowds of the cheers and the odd movement in the pit which betrayed the positions of their opponents. It was the final cheer, however, which overwhelmed Gar most of all. Far too loud. There was far too much noise and too much blood in this place. He could neither stand it nor handle it. He had the oddest feeling that someone was talking in the cage, but he did not hear what they said. There was but one thing on his mind: stop the noise; stop the blood.

Releasing a most thunderous roar from his chest, deafening his comrades, he leapt towards the bars. Had they not opened at that second, there was every possibility the Treemind would have torn them apart with his inhuman strength. As it were, the cage was saved and the wild bearman burst into the pit with speed, the child flying from his shoulder due to the speed and falling into the terrified Prinny.
Reaching the middle of the pit, Gar stood to his full height and fired off another ear-piercing roar, before he instinctively turned upon the greatest source of danger. His eyes focused on the disgraced soldiers and his singular desire to put an end to the noise and the blood made them the source of his suffering. Without hesitation, the Treemind charged towards them, range bared and claws prepared, and his fur bristling upwards like some kind of porcupine. But perhaps the most terrifying of all were the tattoos upon his body, now fully black and crackling upwards, and upon his chest was the undeniable face of a most terrible, cackling demon. 

It seemed that, whether Gar had intended it or not, he had gone right ahead with the plan he'd suggested. Whether the others would take this opportunity, while the undoubtedly terrifying form of Gar took up the attention of all, to gather weapons and prepare themselves remained to be seen.