Redsand Canyon Before they died, had trees to hang their hope

He nods. “Oh, but it’s not mindless violence, dearest. You want to see how brilliant of an actor I am? Then let’s go.” He hums low, excited for the outcome to show itself. His tail even wags on his hips a bit. 

“But dear,” he continues, eyes gazing dangerously into Valour’s own. “I will be a good boy. I’ll do as you want — to an extent — so be frugal.” He chirps with a wink. “I want Ursus to fall, so like I said I am willing to do what I must.” 

He lifts a heavy paw to step away from valour, walking in a loose circle — pacing. “They will still know of what the Saints have done. People yap their fucking mouths.” He snaps, his smirk never diminishing. “We will, prevail though. No worries.” An ominous pause. “If we don’t, then you may leave. Run off to an allied pack. Go somewhere safe.” The Grandmaster, with an odd calmness about him, casually looks off into the distance. “The Saints will fall and they’ll come after me. They’ll kill me and so on and so on. Whatever, whatever. Sappy bullshit destiny story and all that.” He hums. He’s fucking crazy and he knows it but at this point, he doesn’t give a fuck.