Dawnlark Plains waiting for a rainy day

Stepping closer, Goliath saw that the man was old. Worn and torn by age, he saw the cuts and scars that signified many previous battles. One much more intelligent could find respect for the geezer, but Goliath wasn't one who particularly enjoyed the presence of the elderly. He always thought that all they tended to be was useless, only holding on to previous memories of pride instead of living in the present. If anything, they were rumpless sacks of shit which called each other 'wise', full of lies and could live in former glories.

"It is, Old git" he growled, only partially telling the truth. Goliath began to feel immense feelings of anger, something which he could only link back the old hag which he called 'Grandmother' who had abused him when he was an adolescent. It had become so great that he stood up, and struck her down. Back then, he wasn't focused and forgot to finish her off. An older Goliath would not have made the same mistake.

Shaking these thoughts out of his head, he barked an order:"What is name, greybeard?" Goliath always kept a mental note of the intruders, and although the male before him was clearly not a threat, (atleast in Goliath's eyes) he wanted to remember then name of all who he bested in combat.