He strode into the war room with an aura of confidence surrounding him. Never had he been so sure of anything in his life. He wanted to be in the brotherhood. But, of course, he'd never admit that Enzo had beaten him by a few days. That didn't matter and perhaps it would be forgotten in a few years. Tony moved with pride, something almost close to arrogance. He stood tall, wearing nothing but the strap for his sword and the old sword he'd found himself. His mane wasn't particularly tame either, but it was pulled back by a regal golden ribbon. 'Father,' he said, his Scottish, Italian and Canadian tinged accent ringing out through the war room. 'Ay've made mah mind up'. He'd not brought Neela along with him, this was his day and he wanted it to be private for him and his father.
He stood before his father for a moment, looking up to the male, made even taller by the raised platform. He knelt suddenly, dropping with a pound before his father. He didn't really need to, but some small part of him wanted to out shine his brother after all.
.irontony-text {padding:0px 10px;}
.irontony i {color:#ffffff; font-style:italic;}
.irontony b {font-weight:bold; color:#cd1111; letter-spacing:1px; text-shadow: 0.2em 0.2em 0.2em #d7cb12; }
.irontony {width:500px; margin:0 auto; background-color:#34053b; background-image:url(http://i910.photobucket.com/albums/ac30 ... 0e1e08.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding:330px 0px 6px 0px; font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size:10px; color:#ffffff; word-spacing:.2px; line-height:14px; letter-spacing:.1px; text-align:justify; border:1px solid #34053b;}
</style>
[/html]