When Nahawi had sought out a practice spar, Garmr had happily obliged. The burly three-year-old was still growing, his shoulders broadening and his already thick feathered legs gaining muscle and power. When he had thrown himself against the Boss, Garmr could feel the difference in his body. The brute force he didn’t have before. As with anything that revolved around chaos and violence, laughter had erupted from his lips. Even as Nahawi had won, it hadn’t dimmed Garmr’s already dangerous demeanor.


When the two had gone their separate ways, Garmr had thought Nahawi would be done with the encounter. But he wasn’t disappointed when the Boss sought him out. Pent up fury radiated in the red stallion’s body language, and it was all Garmr could do to hold back a snicker. He had caused it, and he was proud of it. Although he had managed not to laugh again, he did turn to face the red dun with a smug smile. His emerald eyes glinting with the wickedness he never bothered to hide. “Speaking behind your back?” he scoffed, as if that alone was the most stupidest thing he had heard yet. “So conceited to think I’m obsessed with you? I’m sorry to be such a disappointment.” his words weren’t filled with a threatening growl. Instead they were light, as if this was nothing more than a joke.


“If I said anything, O’Boss, mine; it would be nothing different than anyone else says.” Garmr stated boldly. Only then, his eyes widened slightly in faked surprise. “Was this supposed to be a threatening visit? I truly am a disappointing brother, aren’t I?” Clearly Garmr only found humor in this visit and nothing more.


GARMR