god give me style and give me grace
#4
The behemoth sat and listened, recognizing the words but reading much more into them than he probably should have. Peace was a fine thing to him, but peace never was free, there was always a price to be had for the lifestyle. When he spoke of warriors and needing more, he almost jumped up and sought to join but he withheld such things for now.


“Many wolves and coyotes think it easy for someone like me to lay down my weapons, to walk away from bloodshed. Truth of the matter is, only someone who has killed could ever understand the burden placed on a soul touched with blood lust.” he paused a moment. Somehow he could guess that this man knew to some extent of what he spoke of. No one could seek real peace without having first been a monster, because you can't seek what you aren’t without being what you are first. The man that Saluce was, was the definition of restless. Violence was apart of his nature, and even when that golden goddess showed up, there was no gentle courtship, just a primal fury.


“I met Nayru a few days ago. Not going to lie, I've been patrolling your borders, making sure that what warriors you have, have been doing their job keeping the borders safe.” He left the real reason to himself. That golden goddess was what he was here for today, missing the link he had forged with her, even if he knew it had been wrong. It was one thing to court a female, a complete different matter when you've already connected with her, and feelings of love, and the separation from the object of your desire plague your thoughts.

“What brings me back this way I guess is looking for home.”


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