They're lucky, really. They're lucky that it's him out today and not, say, his mother and father. Large groups meant different things for him - for him, they were merely interesting to observe. He enjoyed being able to sit by idly and examine their size differences and weaknesses. Some part of him liked to imagine that it would some day aid in him taking them down lest they ever desire Iromar's throne and the other part... well, the other part merely found fascination in the way their muscles moved beneath their skin. It was easy to watch them, too, with the roar of the falls deafening them to his whereabouts.

He sat away from the original male, sheltered in the nearby tree line. Smaller than him, of course, always smaller but... different, yes. This stranger would undoubtedly make for an interesting competition, particularly considering his diminished height. The red of his eyes reflected with his intrigue as he licked his lips in quiet anticipation, only distracted when the form of another arose - a female this time, too skinny for her build. Instantly, he zoned in on her, a low growl of curiosity rising in his throat... pretty girl, she was. Her colours were wrong but she was pretty, still... thick built, bright eyes like his mother. The appearance of that female nearly drew him in, and yet he refrained for now, content to continue his observations.

It seemed like whatever the male had called for exactly had begun; he watched, too, as Faline emerged, a face he kne well enough. She had intruded once and yet, she had been welcome into Iromar but still... always the wrong colour, always the wrong build. Too thin, too leggy. He liked them built like him; broad, muscular, like a battering ram situated atop four pillars in motion. Built like him, built like the grey girl. He shook his head, dismissing Faline from his mind and returning his attention to the two strangers.

Another, though. He came from the darkness, his towering form breaking the silence as his words broke apart the roar of the waters. Acrid words, anger seeping from every syllable. Instantly, Astaroth's attention diverged to him, his tongue once more wrapping over his muzzle - this male was a good challenge. He was tall, broad and yet, it was obvious enough that he had finished his growing. Astaroth knew his size was not quite as great; he stood a rather stocky 32 inches at this point, topping the scales at a steady 130 lbs. Give him another year and he might pose more of a challenge to the male but for now... he wanted to at least know who this future challenger would be.

With a final growl of excitement, he rose from his position and slipped from the tree line, his broad paws slapping against the stone before he stopped once more some ten or so feet from the group. He stood proud, his tail stiff and the crimson of his hackles risen slightly as he perked up towards d'Manaco with a curious eagerness. He needn't speak, especially not to those that held no rank above him, and thus, his actions spoke words enough - who were you to be speaking like such?