Golden Glade One summer day

ah; a cluck of the tongue as nyra struck, a jettison of pure fierce pale light, and the boy, crying out and pleading, pretty legs wending together into a stumble.
bloodsport, and pharaoh watched with interest, before he too drew quickly forward.
"you might give him to me," ramesses suggested gently, not truly seeking to spare the other, but rather watchful for how the snowdrive warrior might respond. "he is a bit beautiful to kill so swiftly. what does he know, do you think?"
conversational, though he meant to block any mad and desperate fleeing the stranger might attempt.