Hoshor Plains just carry this gun, you'll even get paid

He had never been called an amateur before and of course, the man’s mind went immediately to inappropriate things. “Amateur is something I’ve never been called before.” Sakai mused for a moment as his mind continued down into the gutter. 

He watched as the loner took in his large form with severity. Hit was obvious now from the short interaction the two had so far that Ryzhov wouldn’t probably appreciate a once over back. Tail lay still, eyes focused on the odd color gaze of the man in front of him and no coy smile graced his lips: a perfectly composed man of war. Part of him wanted to impress Ryzhov. 

Sakai was pretty stupid, but luckily not too stupid. He knew what revealing too much about his pack may lead to as he had seen the repercussions before. “The leader is the Pharaoh of the lands, a Sun God in his right.”

What did he like about it? The idea that he could have power over the fellahin in any way he liked and the idea that he could sink his teeth into another for a higher cause. The nothingness he felt as his eyes turned to black during war comforted him. He never knew how nice it was to feel nothing. These were things he would not say.

“I’ve been given opportunity to make something of myself and reap the benefits. I am treated well and with respect. I have no issues with anyone I serve or anyone who serves me. The idea of stability alone is something I’ve learned to appreciate. Chaos burns bright for a while, but dies with time. I intend to continue to burn however I can.”

He wanted to know more as well. “Who holds your loyalty, Ryzhov?”