Kintla Flatlands But Death Had Caught You in a Bad Mood

This was just like being back among his people! Testosterone flowing abundant between the menfolk (and some of the brawny women too), everyone ready to tear each-other a new hole. Kigipigak had a touch more confidence than he should have considering the so-called fawnboy had a few months on him; but Kigipigak had the experience of one kill under his proverbial belt and he was a Tartok native—he felt justified.

Ah! Haha, nice mouth on you! Best head home to suckle at mother's teat, yes? At least until you've learned to fight like a man. Kigipigak shot back in his hitching common. The jesting of men was something he missed most definitely. He could not ignore the stiff-legged stride of this boy, how hastily he morphed from a fawn to a young stag vying for its crown; the drop of the head, licking of the lips. Teeth ready.

Kigipigak was happy to have found such a lively beast as this to practice his skills upon.