She hardly ruined any fun, but she grins at him anyway with that gleam in her eye like that is exactly what she had done. She knows the Atrox is highly unlikely to eat any of the horses loyal to the Chamber (she doesn’t know if he has eaten horses in the past or not, on that she can’t comment). But she knows that the stallion is loyal to the Chamber, even if he lurks out of sight more often than not. He seemed to come back when the bulk of the work had already been done, but truthfully, she doesn’t care. If the Chamber decides to make a move, she’ll take whatever help those loyal to the kingdom wants to offer.
“You know I can’t,” she says in response to his quip, though sarcasm laces her words and the glimmer in her eye. In truth, she has always liked Atrox in some strange way. He was a pain in the ass, but then again, so was she. They had their own sort of rapport at this point, mostly full of pissing the other one off. But still.
Killdare is calm, and Atrox’s comment roll off the stallion without a flinch. Not that she’s surprised by this. Killdare has always been rather level headed and composed, which she liked. There were plenty of hot headed, blood-thirsty horses running about the Chamber, and while she liked them too, she needed a few slightly more well balanced ones to keep the peace around here. Otherwise the Chamber might be covered in blood.
“I have been counting. I keep wondering how many more days you can live old man,” she adds. He may claim not to be that old, but he’s older than Warship, and Warship was pretty damn old. She’d consider the panther to be basically ancient. Not that relics didn’t have their use. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company Atrox?”
straia
the raven queen of the chamber