Snippet #2385081

Oreron

If there was one thing that people that had been under under oreron's command knew...it was the worst idea to piss off a man who had a tendency to bite a man's throat to shreds if pushed to that point. His whole body shook with bearly head back rage, however his refusal to kill a man who couldn't fight against him if he even wanted to kept the armored man from ripping his drunken face to shreds.

The growl rang lower as he watched the male wander out the his bottle of booze and snorted at him. "May fate crack you in the head with some sense." He growled under his breath as he started to calm down. He could hear the voice of his long dead mate calming the rage that had been corsing through him. A halluconation yes, but one of the rare few that did not send him into a murderous rage. Not that it really took much these days to do so for that matter.

"What of you? Two years have changed you as well." With a now clear mind, oreron turned his attention toward Faith. He felt like he had some making up to do from their first meeting and nearly killing her.