o’ child, a hallow truth spilled so close & yet so far from this usurper’s parsed lips. ❝ of course, unconditional motives are both few & far between——-. individuals that solely rely upon their creed are fragile, indeed—–. their hopes are severed into halves before they even have a chance to cultivate a worthwhile cause, ❞ alas, it is always such a prestigious ideology. that the paladins fought for the ‘ good of the universe. ’ but no, he is here to prove that is not the case ; underneath their chivalrous facade each member held a personal agenda or vendetta. those clawed digits idly tapped against the railing. he prides himself on being able to deduce certain mannerisms & various personality traits that are exploitable in an individual. keith is far too unbolted in terms of restriction, though—- even vacating self-defense in order to coerce the exile into displaying a certain sympathy. which, in some respect, has started to manifest without either becoming self-aware & the extent shall become the foundation of ‘ trust ’ between those unfairly thrust into the throes of arbitrary prejudice.

               ❝ think of someone on your team that doesn’t hold an ulterior motive in regards to your virtuous mission, ❞ he challenged. ❝ i’ll wait. ❞ but as the answer becomes clear ; his smile reappears. it might’ve been cruel, but sometimes the truth is. some members solely chase a meager fabrication, an illusion of destiny & self-entitlement. because without a bond to voltron, who are they: no one, nothing—–. those that sought a certain, particular conclusion are much easier to tell from these optimistic crowdpleasers. ❝ the truth of the matter is that it is in a species nature to take. whether they be human, altean or galra. it is desire that drives this team, not you— or anyone else’s leadership. ❞ the prince is a hazardous ichor ; not only in a physical sense, a mentality too. so quick does his fangs bury inside the jugular & recognize a certain decree of fault. the other problem is: he isn’t incorrect——. that coy smile bequeaths it, too ; a realization that perhaps the sanguine pilot doesn’t want to admit.

             but he supposed some credit is due. ‘ being the one to get results, ’ a chortle came from the depth of his lilac throat. ❝ only when i see a viable conclusion, child. ❞ thus the argument he had ten thousand years to try and tip the scales. why place his life & the lives of his generals in danger ; his patience for a harbinger that could crack the obsidian pillar his father built has paid off. getting killed, or executed won’t whet his appetite for revenge against a parent who’s discarded him as though he were galactic rubbish. no, the pariah is patient ; he is precariously calculating, a tactician that could’ve made even the most preeminent strategists tremble in undue terror. ❝ try thinking before you leap, ❞ next time, though—-?

  Naivety to reign strongly, though its roots less stubborn & steadily being tugged away by the guidance of the prince’s words & the experiences accumulated to the present. ❝Huh,❞ thoughtful sound, seeing more & more of a capable leader in the Galran in front of him, though it did little to dampen him. Perhaps waver his confidence, but by the persistent tension along his slightly clenched fists, he showed refusal to succumb to such weakness. It does prove to show he is internalizing the Galran’s words which is a feat in itself as Keith is infamous for stubbornness & his usually withdrawn personality. A glance drawn to the window that overlooks the vast galaxies, but it’s his reflection that obtains his attention as thoughts spiraled in his mind. The fact he’s expressing more of himself proves of the trust & comfort being cultivated between them.

  ❝No…you’re right,❞ that’s something to admit within a breath. He didn’t feel the need to verbally predict the others’ motives. ❝We all have something we want…❞ outside the realm of their vision as a whole community. Though Keith struggled to speak about his origins & strong desire to seek out any --- possible relatives. Anyone who might have a familial connection to him. But they have objectives at hand to fulfill first & Keith had to find his balance in these evolving roles that’s been laid upon them.

               ‘ fight like a galra, ’ such a generic term ; being a hybrid himself & overcoming his various tribulations can attest to such a claim. active combat with a galra is about dominion & control. unbridled rage without a sense of guidance or conclusion. the galra were known to fight one another to the death, even ; thus an insatiable lust for entertainment in various bloodletting sports such as the coliseum. how easily a race can be tricked into mundane mediocrity in violence. but he had always found it unappealing ; or maybe he was so easily bored due to the stupor & simplicity. his tongue presses up against the roof of his mouth once more, a soft ‘ tsk ’ in the back of his throat. ❝ you’re right—-. how rude of me to belittle your frivolous attempt at courtship, ❞ but the pariah is merely teasing ; knowing full & well that their trust in one another was purely beneficial. organisms clasp onto a source in order to evade death & prolong survival. no matter whom they are, this is an undeniable truth—–.

               ❝ how crass, ❞ he lightly commented. ❝ it seems to me that you’re the ’ painfully ’ honest type. ❞ both pleasant & relatively harmful. allowing others to see what is on the surface ; a passive vulnerability, the previous exile honestly pities the poor sot. he’s already been given an inferior hand. those whom shall judge him harshly for his galra lineage, those who deprecated a man or woman born into a ‘ taboo ’ niche. ❝ allow me to give you some advice. from one leader unto another, ❞ of course he is welcome to receive it with a grain of salt. merely, a gesture of good faith. ❝ sometimes a ‘ falsified ’ hope is what’s needed to keep moving forward. it’s fruitless to continue senseless wallowing, ❞ he can almost sense that keith has a particularly low self-confidence level. whilst he does not outright lie ; the prince does contort & construct such an intricate labyrinth. an individual can be both gracious & equal parts conniving, as his own mental barricades are steep & heavily reinforced.

     ❝---ugh,❞ once more, there’s the uncertainty as to if he actually entertains or pleases the Galran prince. Perhaps there’s a probability he is, otherwise their interactions wouldn’t steadily progress in consistency. Why, oh why is he drawn to him --- ? Is it due to the closeness of their heritage? Though undoubtedly such a large gap between hierarchy, but maybe being a formidable fighter aided to compensate for such & how Lotor values even his own generals in spite of their shared half-breed traits. ❝We all have our own approach--❞ as if not dissuading this is something of that sort, in regards to the prince’s remark, even with his huffy expression.

    ❝Is that really such a bad thing?❞ skepticism thick in his voice, though barely offended. A preference he had for straightforward comments rather than just dodging around the topic ( alas, he’s one to speak as he tried to indirectly condition the altean princess to be more considerate of other Galrans before -- ). But he’s learned that constantly pondering by yourself will only result in endless labyrinth like routes in one’s mind while seeking for answers. He’s prevented from falling into that maze of thoughts when suddenly gifted with advice. Listening keenly with raised brows he did & his expression crinkled slightly, almost doubtful of such mindset.

     ❝You don’t look like that type --❞ he dared to comment, not meant to challenge the prince this time. ❝You give results.❞ Only an innocent means to explore deeper into this approach & how Lotor does it--- able to refrain from stumbling & losing his way. His hands slid to grasp over his own knees, reflecting upon this. ❝I am moving forward --- I just don’t know if I’ll ever find what I’m looking for…❞ Or even who—but he’s beginning to prepare himself for chances he’ll never find his own mother.He’d at least like to find --- or create a place where those like him can belong.

               ❝ well, i suppose it wasn’t, ❞ the compliment was for ‘ all faces besides that one, ’ after all. given that he makes it seventy percent of the time, though, doesn’t weigh in the pilot’s favor. still, the galran prince does seem to have a sense of wit & corrosive sweetness upon his tongue. the way he wove words & took the other in for a prolonged ride of various twists. well, it is obvious he’s had a lot of practice in this realm—. this makes carrying on a conversation with him a little more convoluted as to whence the other is being genuine, a sigh exited those thin lips. clawed digits removed as he coiled them into a loose fist ; pressed underneath his jawline. a consistent ‘ tap ’ against lilac skin as his optics filled with golden sclera narrowed. ❝ saying that and actually committing to practice are very different, ❞ but he’ll offer a few pointers ; dealing with a galra fleet heavily & he knows almost all maneuvers taught in the empire. even his father had acknowledged how his heir purposefully taught & finessed a technique that is meant to undermine the galra’s aggressive encroachment to physical & aerial battle.

               there was one obvious truth: the pariah trusts no one. even with the forthcoming conversation ; a softness in the mannerisms that the other hybrid attempted to ease his ally’s risen anxiety. alas, a man whom walked through fire to save his own life from his own people is not one to be taken lightly, he knows how to survive. despite the odds. those eyelids lift a little in acknowledgement as his companion attempts to curb the game in his favor. sadly, it seemed compliments truly aren’t an earthen affair. or at least, not this one’s forte. he burst out into a fit of laughter ; of all the bloody things to say & he goes straight for the atypical one. ❝ you’re such a child, ❞ the heir apparent taunted. pinching the other’s pale cheek as he gave it a few sharp tugs ; affection isn’t idly given amongst his people, but it seemed there’s some differentiation in lotor’s perspective. perhaps being starved of contact has made him a little more open to certain aspects of ardor. ❝ though, i suppose someone as tight-lipped as you wouldn’t choose to say that lightly. ❞ his hands are removed—–.

     Truly, such mind game easily honed by the prince; the more dangerous leveled ones, Keith already managed to survive along with his fellow paladins. It’s as if he wouldn’t let even one flaw slide, which led for the human hybrid to wonder if this is intentional in order to ascertain one does not allow their weaknesses to be their greatest disadvantage. Which is Keith’s own vulnerability as it’s hindered him many times – though progress is being shown, at its own pace. Obviously noticeable for even the Galran prince to point out most often, but even so, there’s that surprising interest in Keith’s determination to further hone his skills. Keith often has been the receiver of such remarks: ‘You fight like a Galra---‘

     ❝--- !!! ❞Oh there’s him again, flustered by the sudden outburst of laughter & he felt the heat flush across his face & even down his neck. ❝Is that a way to thank someone for a compliment like that -- ?❞ Half-swatting the Galran’s pinching approach away from his face, outright embarrassed, but it’s not like he was walking out or anything. Which is another notable thing ( except for that time they sparred & were caught in a heated argument ). ❝Definitely not—I don’t see the point in saying something you don’t mean,❞ there’s the huffing insistence as he exhaled, trying to compose himself. Himself perhaps knowing what it’s like to yearn for affection.

     He’s never had one from a mother. His father abandoned him ---.

             ❝ oh, yes—-! that’s it, that is the exact face i was talking about, ❞ ugh, grotesque. the alien prince cringed outwardly as the pilot’s expression tenses up & becomes a malformed visage. like a modern art masterpiece ; though, without an ounce of abstract cubism or apparent charm. his tongue rubbed up against the grooves of his upper palate, pressure of elongated canines beginning to imprint against the soft, malleable flesh of a lilac appendage. ❝ it almost looks like a poor sot shoved an unripened melon down your gullet. ❞ there’s a subtle snicker from the pariah, but he feigns arrogance as the vehement black paladin twists & rebukes as the game of ‘ compliments ’ continued.

             ❝ my piloting, ❞ the fellow half-galra parroted. ❝ well, i suppose i would. given the years of exile & tasked with various forms of imposed maintenance. i was required to fly my own ship throughout the galaxies. ❞ though it was meant to be a compliment ; sometimes the basic necessity for survival pulls out an individual’s latent talent. the more you’re required to become talented & the broad basis in which said talent is nurtured or promptly discarded. ❝ yours is not too terrible, considering the switch in the roster. could use a little finesse. ❞ certainly his father ( driven with bloodlust ) won’t be as gracious to give voltron the ‘ breathers ’ that the son had so generously offered——-.

   ❝That didn’t sound like a compliment at all --- ❞ straightforward as always, obviously flustered & displeased with the sharp tongued words of the Galran right before him. It’s honestly quite --- something talking with Lotor; there’s constant shifts & surprises when it came to his personality & approach though it continued to draw in his intrigue as well. ❝I do not have one up there--❞ he defended himself, ruffled with the cheeks darkly hued though this exchange is far from over.

  ❝--- huh,❞ nearly about to question about the details of the exile, but it didn’t seem the right time. His guts were warning him it’d utterly destroy the entire conversation & honestly he’s far more engaged in receiving the prince’s thoughts about him. There’s even --- an admiration for the prince’s skills, though Keith struggled with stating a portion of that. ❝I’ll get better…❞ determined as he said, like previous he will prove to Lotor of how he wouldn’t be a liability even with his fierce approach to battle.

  Lips pressed tightly together as if debating if he should say this, but he didn’t want to lose in having the upper hand of teasing & such. Lotor’s winning streak of flustering him has been going on too rapidly. ❝You’re---……❞ starting after a deep breath, though his voice quieted down.

▛      from here. @hybruida.     ▟

      “    it’s that bad for you  ?    “ he’d cock an eyebrow as a light, sly grin pulled at his lips before he craned his neck somewhat to join in a hushed whisper with his companion. “   if it weren’t for hunk’s cooking skills most of the time, i think i’d have died from malnutrition a lo - oong time ago, too. but that’s also not what i was hinting at.    “ and the smirk is gone as quickly as it came, replaced with something akin to worry in his stormy eyes and troubling features. now he was closer, speaking with keith as if they shared secrets, and such a pallid look with near red-rimmed eyes were certainly signs of something more tangible than just a white lie. 

      “    do i need to monitor your sleeping, now ?    “

   ❝--- no comment,❞ able to reciprocate the playful grin, not wanting to risk his privileges to eat with anymore of his opinion on the food. Though it did help that Shiro was so on board with the edible-ness of the food that it managed to lighten up the younger paladin’s disposition. At first, content that the leader ( their true leader ) wouldn’t persist on the state of his health. 

    How wrong he was, though Shiro wouldn’t be their leader otherwise if he wasn’t so sharp to pick on the small details. The friendly playfulness dissipated to be replaced by slight confusion as to why the sudden shift to a more serious mood. Caught red-handed via the expression that clearly reflected across the amethyst colored eyes. 

worried starters - ( still accepting - ! )

@oshiields

      ❝Nnn—❞ uncertain himself as to what it was that suddenly disrupted his entire disposition. Aware that they are on another foreign planet — in spite of how rich & alive it looked with the abundance of the greenery, there are dangers & perils about. Perhaps a spy of some sort had located the paladin that had been separated from the others. ❝I’m—nnn–❞ fighting against it; whatever sedative that had been mixed into his water. Dammit– he should have been more careful, he had let the seemingly peaceful mood of the town bring his guard down. Though he hadn’t expected this HUGE man to suddenly take concern in him. The pilot had managed to drag himself somewhere to one of the side alleys to hide him— or perhaps try to face on whoever did this to him. His complexion to turn pale, breathing ragged as he fell slumped right on to his rear with his vision growing obscured. 

             ❝ oh, how tragic. ❞ those lilac cheeks puff outwards ; a smidgen crestfallen. alas, the aimless kneading against the pilot’s suit continued. needless to say, an individual could easily get bored out of their utter mind amidst the blatant vacancy of space & known universe. trust is a steadily built construct ; truthfully, neither should’ve expected ‘ an agreement ’ to be anything other than painstaking. ❝ now, now. no need to get all ruffled, ❞ the pariah teased. lips beginning to quirk upward ; a petite set of canines protruding from the cover of his thin upper lip. ❝ sometimes we all deserve a little tenderness—–. why don’t i start, ❞ hm, a means to exchange compliments. he’s well-versed in such subterfuge. ❝ your face is quite pleasant to look at so long that it’s not all crumpled up, ❞ alluding to the half-human’s default scowl.

     Truly, time has been rather abundant in their hands which has woven the chances for them to know one another better. Though, Keith felt the prince definitely delights in teasing him relentlessly. However there seemed no escape nor even a thought of it in spite of the sensual kneading against the latex. Keith, however, devoted to not cower away as seen with his frame stubborn & remain as is though it is kind of distracting. But it didn’t take long before his energy was channeled in making that exact crumpled face. ❝I’m not ruffled up or crumpled—❞ huffed the paladin but it wasn’t part of his virtue to be unfair, willing to uphold the mutual exchange as he exhaled. Dammit, being considered pleasing to Lotor’s taste has his heart running amok within his chest.

           ❝ do they not have basic compliments on earth, ❞ he remains nonchalant ; rather expectant, though. lithe brows quirk upward. oh, that snide dismissial & admittance didn’t go unrewarded as the pilot slips an inch closer. claws stretching outward & coiling into a small clasp against the fabric seams. plucking upon them in a coercive manner. ❝ even the obvious needs to be vocalized, ❞ don’t you think, o’ fearless leader—-?

correct. it’s me.

worried starters - ( still accepting - ! )

    Surely, there couldn’t have been a more obvious hint that Keith was doing his utmost best to be discreet; not warrant any attention. The grimace that shuddered along his visage should be telling enough of how --- the current meal is far from....actual gourmet ( not like it’s an actual everyday luxury for them ). Keen to stay low, not wanting to incur Coran’s great disapproval & lecture, his frame leaned slight towards the more recognized leader with a hushed voice, ❝I don’t think I can stomach any more of this to be honest...❞

worried starters - ( still accepting - ! )

   ❝Huh --- ?❞ absentmindedly responding, having not realized the Galran prince had been observing him the entire time ( well, not that he was aware of specific duration ). Greatly immersed within his own thoughts; always so critical of himself & perhaps on edge considering how he continued to assess his way of leadership --- yet it conflicts him due to possible clashes. A fiery nature often prone to such possible complications, thus his ever incessant pondering & reflection as of late. 

         ❝ Cease your naive preaching, boy, ❞ oh, now the prince pro-tem is agitated. ❝ Make no mistake: countless Galra are dead because you’ve killed them, don’t become so self-entitled as to omit that crucial detail. ❞ His admission proposes that they’re all killers ; men & women whom fight in wars & partake in conflict have someone else’s blood on their hands. Decisions from above dictate whom falls on the blade, as for the spoils—- they are received by the victorious. Sometimes there is no rhyme nor reason to loyalty ; ferocity, a feral instinct—- is it not in a creature’s nature to harbor some distinct spark of self-preservation. For once, the apathetic composure displays a split second of fracture. His brows crease ; causing his furrowed expression to stipple. Jawbone angled at a slant, those petite fangs predominant in his forced ‘ grin ’ as they clacked against his lower teeth. Remember: a beast baring its teeth is an imminent threat, a promise ( not an insinuation. )

         ❝ Is that your justice, paladin, ❞ he spat it out like acidic bile. So the paladin is clear in the prince’s stance: those words are meant to be a bitter pill. Sightless righteousness shall lead his team & those attributed to the dissimulation of the Galra Empire to ruination. ❝ What a hypocritical vision of mutual prosperity you spew as though you could comprehend the weight of the universe, ❞ the pariah continued. ❝ In one breath, a proposition for a notion of peace. In another, a means to drive an entire species to the brink of annihilation—–. ❞ Does his rationale even envision the future he’s foreseen. Does the paladin not see the retribution that even those Galra whom oppose the Empire are honored—-? Not with parades, food, wine & affection like the paladins of Voltron. They’re scoffed at, detested ; a desire to carve the scars borne of his father’s cruelty into their cauterized skin remains.          ❝ So tell me: did they deserve it, ❞ he baited. ❝ Did you deserve praise for it—-? ❞ Death is death ; a loss is a loss, but a victory sweetens the tragedies felt upon the battlefield. Sometimes, a leader is forced to tread a thin line ; perhaps this was his brethren’s ‘ kindness ’ as he prepared this paladin for a colossal task. His father isn’t going to ‘ fall ’ off the gilded throne with undo grace ; it shall be bloody & unpleasant—-. ❝ Be smart about what you’re doing or get out of my way—-! ❞ He wouldn’t like to lose again ; perhaps it is pride that makes him want to achieve victory before Voltron disposes of his father & his blasted crone. He’s gone over the scenario a million times in his head since his exile, there’s an inkling of doubt he’ll be able to plunge the broadened blade through their corrupt, blackened hearts—-.         But he cannot cease his retribution now ; the prince’s path shall be the one to save both the universe & the Galra Empire. ❝ We shall be the tools of our own deliverance. Voltron is not needed. Unless you somehow manage to prove me wrong, ❞ so far, though—- the outcast remains unimpressed with these fabled heroes & mediocre saviors—-.

    ❝Then what of the humans and other races killed by your men --- !?❞ he challenged the prince; unwilling to let only one side be placed to blame. The irony as the paladin had even been admitting of how no side is without bloodstained hands. How many are desperate to survive, perhaps many only ever focused upon themselves so selfishly, but not all are like that. There are those who worry for the future of their children ---.

    ❝Innocent lives from all races didn’t deserve it --- !!! I on the brink, even when placed to be cautious about his succeeding words, but he will absolutely forbid such one-sided slander. ❝….none of us did---❞ naïve it may sound, almost meek & it was never Keith’s intention to sound self-entitled merely because one-half of him shares Galra blood. There was no basis at all, even when he bears an Galran weapon. ❝I don’t deserve praise---….I’m just doing what I can and everything in my power. Even without Voltron, I will continue to do so---❞ Quite the daring statement to make, as his Lion is definitely an immense factor in his achievements as a paladin.

    ❝I don’t understand everything--- I admit that, that’s why I’m determined to continue to move forward…❞ Why he will continue to explore & discover, but what would a high-esteemed Galran royal understand about that? Evident with the disdain developed towards the hot-headed paladin. ❝I—will prove you wrong though, that this can’t be done alone.❞ stepping to the challenge, though it should be uncertain why he seems to be progressing towards a stance that may inevitably lead to supporting the prince.

    Perhaps—their goal is common, only glazed with different beliefs & methods.

           ❝ Of what use are you to anyone by rotting in a cell, ❞ the boy doesn’t seem to have the undermined capacity to comprehend the larger picture. Both hands covered in tempered gauntlets cross atop his lithe waist. ‘ Zarkon, ’ his placid lips pull back ; a fine row of petite fangs & bicuspids are displayed in an obvious sneer. It built bile upon his tongue, a bitter pill to swallow —- one that a man such as he refuses to ‘ swallow ’ for much longer. ❝ Whatever I intend to partake in is far beyond the realm that your tiny, feeble little mind can even decipher, ❞ he berated. Still, his eyes linger on the luxite blade that had morphed into a dagger again. Given its connection to the wielder ; it reverted as soon as the flow is severed. But it is as he thought, the luminescent brand upon the hilt is an exact match to those whom sought to dethrone his father—-.

           The pariah had no ‘ need ’ for a lion. The mechanical creature that had brought the leader here stood overtop them menacingly ; but it hadn’t reached out to disturb the battle between the crown prince & the surrogate leader of Voltron. But the ship he’d overseen carved from an intergalactic ore, stolen from his own people’s hangar—- that is the sole ship that called unto him. But the twin ( as it was long since lost in-between rifted realities ) it found in the legendary defender is uncanny ; a rival is but another pretense for a ‘ connection. ’ Those lilac lips press into a thinned line, an astute frigidness in his stance. He pitied an individual that knew so little ; of himself, of the heritage & burden he bore by merely carrying the blood of a decaying empire. Rotten, putrid—- so abhorrently fragile, all under the guise of strength. His father lacked a sliver of self-preservation & his mother a conscience, a set of heartless fiends they are together—- dual cogs that swallow the universe like a famished beast.            ❝ Do you intend to lead a slaughter against your own kindred, ❞ he challenged. ❝ Tell me, how is that any different—-? ❞ Change from the outside ; hah, once ‘ crushed ’ their people will be eradicated across the expanse of the known universe. Many bitten by malice shall cheer as their blood runs dry ; execute them, they cried under the guise of morality. ‘ Never forgive, never forget—-! ’ His clawed digits start to coil against the paladin’s collar as he attempted to hoist him upright. 

    ❝Hmph---❞ rebellious in nature still, but Lotor had a point, to his own annoyance. The mood to turn rather DARK & sour the moment the empire’s tyrannical ruler is spoken of. Keith to feel a cold shudder nearly coil down his spine when imprisoned by the menacing glare. It’s a moment of ‘oh shit--’ that even crossed his mind; that even the hot-headed pilot is silenced on the spot. Which is odd that Lotor exudes of LOATHING towards his own father; the very one who he is to succeed one day. ❝Tch--❞ definitely a nerve struck & twisted at being perceived as a form of a dunce. Though he does not lower his guard, unwilling to show submission, but not yet does he unsheathe the treasured blade in spite of the glow that delivers readiness to its wielder.

    Only multiples of questions to ring about in his head in heightened confusion. Unaware of the true nature of Lotor’s relationship with his father. Unable to comprehend that even amongst them, lies conflicts that create unseen rifts.

    ❝--- !❞  Yet again, a statement delivered that carried significant weight to coerce Keith to internalize them. It’s when his touch upon the Galran blade twitched, tension to latch upon his shoulders. How is it any different he asked---. When the very enemy carries blood that runs within the pilot’s veins, but it’s a moment of wavering as its the glow of the Blade of Mamora that reminded him -- even Galrans themselves are fighting AGAINST their own rulers. Ready to give his answer until the strong grip coiled around his collar-- the strength giving his smaller stature a great disadvantage as he struggled, gripping the thick wrist---. ❝Aren’t there already Galras DYING? Regardless of who’s holding the blade---❞ sneered through gritted teeth. He does not deny the blood he bears from a Galran parent, but he could not allow himself to be deterred by cunningly weaved words. ❝Everywhere--- people are killed regardless of where they’re from, even Zarkon allows the death of his own men--!....innocent lives are taken--….we’re fighting for a future where there are no more meaningless deaths---❞

    Naive it may sound, as none shall be spared from the icy fingers of death, but there is a bigger picture Keith does envision & aim give life to.  ❝Our kind.❞ Galrans included, is what he wants to convey. Gloved digits tightened as he refused to surrender the battle of their gazes & willpower. ❝That’s why we fight--- that’s why we’re definitely going to take down Zarkon---❞ Singling out the ruler mostly, perhaps part of him wants to project the blame on to him. The one who HAS to be the reason why he was abandoned, even by his own mother.