Regular quotas of genetic material? Savage was almost curious enough to ask, but he decided that he could probably guess what that boiled down to and left it. He watched this odd alien at the mention of cullings then turned his eyes back to the fire. So... there was another culture that culled too? "And there were none of you spread out in the galaxy to take from?"

This might have been the first conversation he had with anyone - including his elder brother - where the natural hardship of being a warrior based race was something he could actually discuss and experience understanding. "Death is a part of life, and if you're strong enough, lucky enough, and gifted enough, you'll live to see the next sun rise." He hummed through his nose. "Sacrifices are always made."

He used the tongs to grasp the metal and push it back into the fire, deep into the heating mechanism so it would do so evenly. He turned to stare at the other male. "Humans are hypocrites. For many, if not most, their codes sway and shift depending on what is going on around them. They believe revenge is just a cycle of violence, but what they don't seem to understand is that violence, combat, and war makes or breaks a species. I'd rather die assisting my brother in his revenge then live a full lifetime of comfort." Savage was at his best when uncomfortable; that's how the Nightsisters liked their male counterparts.