[That voice. Something about it sends a chill down his spine. It's mild-mannered enough, probably wouldn't even faze a casual listener, but Dito can sense something darker lurking underneath a surface. A hint of malice and violence, like lava simmering beneath a dormant volcano-- eternally stoked and ready to erupt at a moment's notice.
A smirk lifts the ends of Dito's mouth; he taps the haft of his spear casually against his shoulder. If it turns out this guy's itching for a fight, the Disciple's more than happy to provide it. He is, after all, eternally DTF.]
Quite a few, actually. Used to travel with one before I came here. Bloodthirsty. Bad-tempered. Great in the sack.
[At his side, the hyena makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scoff of derision. A deep and almost matronly female voice mutters just loud enough to be audible:]
no subject
A smirk lifts the ends of Dito's mouth; he taps the haft of his spear casually against his shoulder. If it turns out this guy's itching for a fight, the Disciple's more than happy to provide it. He is, after all, eternally DTF.]
Quite a few, actually. Used to travel with one before I came here. Bloodthirsty. Bad-tempered. Great in the sack.
[At his side, the hyena makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scoff of derision. A deep and almost matronly female voice mutters just loud enough to be audible:]
Oh, spare me. Please.