Hideaway Strath sarcophagus

It seems the other contemplates something, or maybe he’s thinking about something. Still, Kynareth’s gaze is unwavering and those bright golden eyes never leave the others face. His next words make a smile appear on his maw. He would bring her a gift. He chuckles. Yes that woman deserves to be showered in gifts. His Priestess; an unwavering strong woman who has known impossible feats. His heart swells at the thought of her. 

“As you should.” The Grandmaster answers back with a single nod of his massive head. His voice isn’t particularly soft, but it isn’t hard either. A simple acknowledgment. He should give her a gift in exchange for his life and a spot in his pack. It is only right.

Still, Ramesses isn’t done yet. He finally answers as to why his gods sent him here. His answer makes Kyn smile then, it’s not a soft smile, but a knowing one. His words make him think about how Kynareth himself was knocked down a peg. Thrown off of his high horse and rolling into the dirty ground. His old pack. It seems he didn’t learn his lesson and he recovered well. Or well-ish. He is still his arrogant, cocky, sadistic self. Only now, he plays his pawns more carefully.

So he nods to him in understanding, watching as the others gaze meets the ground below them stubbornly. “Keep that fire.” He says then, voice horribly serious. “If you allow it to extinguish, you will fade right along side it. You will learn many things here; that we are merciless — we desire blood and war, but I am not a dictator to my brethren.” He pauses, watching him. “You do not serve me, you work alongside me. You are free to do as you wish and in return I desire loyalty.”