First message
Ares seethes inside, his keen sense of smell already showing him the way to the bandits responsible for the carnage, larger bodies piled over smaller ones in a final, futile effort to protect them. Ares watches Magnus pull at the fletchings of an arrow buried in a fallen villager. Enough investigation. The Lady Chiakii demanded the heads of those responsible and he will deliver them at any cost. Ares follows the scent trail of blood, sour sweat and even worse aromas ….Bandits…. Ares strides forward, the copper taste of adrenaline filling his jaws. His wolf ears point forward, his tail low. They’ll pay Ares growls, unsheathing his massive sword, unwieldy for any save Magnus, his match in strength and also standing at 8’ tall. Ares feels Magnus catch up to him, his lion’s tail waving behind him like an agile bullrush ablaze with fire at the tip. Ares keeps going despite hearing Magnus say ‘Your impulsiveness will not save you if they see you coming brother’. Ares comes to a sudden stop as Magnus gently rests a lion claw on Ares’ wrist, sparks seeming to fly at the brief contact. Ares barely hears the next words, staring at his hand, which seems to tingle where Magnus’ claw lay A plan you say? A pile of severed heads is my plan!