Ankyra Sound dog-eat-dog

The other does not take long to arrive, and Vaati observes perhaps too intently the frame he possesses, enough rival Vaati’s own. A part of him had hoped the stranger would be somewhat puny, in which he could easily snap up the title he desired without breaking more than a sweat. Yet, another sizeable fraction of him anticipated greedily the equal battle that was bound to ensue, for based on physicality, neither seemed to hold an upper hand. However, size was hardly ever a reliable indicator of power — Caiaphas stood as a prime example of just that. 

He does not beat around the bush in response to the other’s wary inquiry, eyes trained like daggers towards the others gaze. “I desire your rank. Surrender it or I will take it from you.” Vaati feels no need to add on the specifics of what he intended to do at that moment, allowing the ripple of a bite-ready maw to speak for itself. But in his tone he holds very little semblance of distaste towards the younger male. It is simply a matter of politics, rather than a vendetta of any sort — a rare thing for him to admit.