#deuscutis

1: Neck Nibble

//- what have we learned? that grima likes going for the neck!

It was actually slightly amusing. This one was nearly the same height as him and as Morgan's eyes scanned over him, the two having some sort of silent stare down, he couldn't help but lick his lips at the thoughts going through his mind.

Thoughts that the dragon was going to act on. Moderation wasn't a word he knew, nor was subtlety. In a matter of seconds his hands were gripping Robin's coat and his clawlike nails tangled in the fabric as he ducked down quickly. 

Posture stiffens, hand falling beside his saber. & jaw clenches as there is movement from nearby. Remaining silent but guarded.

Your mother? Grima cares little for you except as one might a favorite toy— certainly not as a mother does a son. What’s more, she knew to wait for the opportune moment to strike, did she not? Without restraint, she would not reign.

"Do you think I care?

She is my mother no matter how much or how little she cares for me. That will not change, nor will my loyalty to her.

A moment of hesitation before the monk continued, loath to move on in his daily activities without first checking up on his tactician. Robin had become an object of fascination to him, being so isolated from the rest of camp. There seemed a tangible wall of distance between him and most everyone else in the army, save for possibly Chrom. To be perfectly honest, Libra had begun to worry for his soul— he must have born a terrible burden, the monk figured, to be so closed off to others all the time.