Draven's face is all scratched up when Darius finds him sulking and moping around an empty hall. "And you thought badgering the Grand General would be a wise choice of action becauuuuse" Darius asks, already not caring for Draven's excuses. Draven threw his giant shoulders up in a shrug, a half cocked frown tugging at his split lips. "You'd think for such an old man, he wouldn't nearly have half the backlash force that he does." He hocked a fat wad of spit and blood near his armored feet. He leaned against a stone wall, crossing his arms like a stubborn little boy. "If Swain didn't transform into that buzzard thing, I would have snapped him like a twig." If it was anyone besides Draven who had so casually tossed out the idea of treason and disrespect, they would have already received Darius's ax to their treacherous throats. Draven snorted when he actually heard his older brother scowl at him. Those bushy black eyebrows coming together angrily to glare at the far more obnoxious Blood Brother was louder than any yelling Darius could have done. But then Darius gave up on his poor attempt to burn a hole into the back of Draven's head, turned to go back the way he came. "Just make sure the General's beak doesn't snap you like a twig next time, instead." "Yeah, yeah." Draven said as he began to twirl one of his ridiculously large axes, trying to catch a glimpse of his reflection when the shiny steel zoomed past.