Valley of Gold the drake

boy? ikaros' blood boiled then. something rotten, something violent. he is a man! perhaps a pathetic excuse for one,  a snide voice monologues in the back of his mind, but still a man! lips curl and his jaw sets, his annoyance scrawled so blatantly across his expression. 

what a pompous prick. he didn't give two shits about what this meat-heads title was. to him, it meant nothing. with a lash of his slim tail, he sucks at his teeth. this man is nothing but a pawn to his proclaimed pharaoh. "those do not impress me, you oaf." he spat.

as much as he hated to admit it, the beast was right. ikaros would be felled as quick as he could spit out some smart-ass comment. he'd be left to rot out here in the sun, his flesh to be stripped from his bones by buzzards. he sneered, ears planing backward for a moment. perhaps it'd be worth it, putting a chink in the pharaohs sword. 

his face was hot with irate. "fine," he growled. "but i would fell you, if i could. it would be a pleasure." he grumbled sourly. kicking at the sand, he meandered forward, his head level with his shoulders. sulking.