[color=pink]"What else can you tell us about your Master Leosin? What does he look like, and where was the last place you knew he was at? And has he told you anything before he departed?"[/color]

Torus eyed the prideful monk as Kyra also questioned him. His tongue spun another test for the brother, discerning the urgency and need of this request. 

[color=662d91]“Scars are like luminaries. Bright, vain, and pregnant with glowing intensity against the sea of shadows. My intention was not to soil your honor nor uproot your dignity. But to simply trawl or cut bait. In this dark hour of need, I hunted to see if our stars actually aligned. Sometimes, cornering an animal often reveals a hidden savagery.”[/color]

He allowed this additional subtle slur to sink in; its parable premeditated to analyze the monastic’s commitment and salve towards his friend.  Nothing more. The druid could feel the familiar madness of Xaron rising, but her thoughts and emotions palpably absent. [i]Was she really gone? Or had she become a part of his liminal persona, impossible to extricate without overt conscious effort?[/i] Likely the fatigue fashioned his hardened mind similar to putty, now softened and malleable to the whims of vile fermentation, by the exhaustion that plagued all.

His glossal ring, a brand of his former possession, rang true, once more.

[color=662d91]“Domestication of the future mandates identifying the dangers of the strange unknown. As much as possible. My hail of insults is a net to merely capture the brio behind your search for Leosin.”[/color]

The pirate awkwardly shifted his gaze to the priestess, while quickly appeasing the other caustic scorns his vernacular connived. The Tethyrian fang suddenly elevated high in his grasp.

[color=662d91]“If we are to fish the same monstrous whale your master still harpoons, the bones of this old sailor will offer this pole to your expedition.”[/color]

[@Hekazu][@Norschtalen][@The Harbinger of Ferocity]