Sunbeam Lair 'Cause some things just don't change

At the mention of wasted talents Donovan becomes even more intrigued. Growing more and more interested as he continues on. Oh, this is good. The spill of blood. Yes Donovan likes that about him. He’s sure he’d be a savage opponent in the battlefield. They have yet to see. Perhaps Donovan will ask him to a spar if he’s able to snag him into the grasping hands of the Saints. 

Then as if this man couldn’t peak Donovan’s interest any more, he does. The stale, ice cold temperatures of his violet eyes against his own gold ones. The words the slip past his lips has Donovan smirking devilishly to the other. The hairs along his black prickle with satisfaction and he rumbles a low laugh. Where the others eyes are cold and calculating, Donovan’s are fiery with the heat of want — of need. He wants him, will clutch at him to become one with their pack.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, dear.” He hums back. “I would be honored to fight by your side if you would provide your services to us. You’d be monstrous in the hand of the Saints. I don’t want to see myself pass up this opportunity.” His words are low, but passionate. The bloodlust is clear in his straight gaze to the other. He wants him.