#tarik torgaddon

@starsarefunny

🌕🌒🌑DAMN Those 🐴 genes be strong.

After careful consideration I have decided that every son of Horus Lupercal I draw shall have that moon themed studs and/or jewelry, and that stupid lil dot on theyr disgusting handsome chin.

No I Will Not elaborate. Peace 🤟🏾

And by discussing, you'd had the four of them lined up for a lecture. An hour-long one. The remaining Lunar wolves standing behind, waiting for their turn.

But it was Tarik who was currently holding in a snicker while you were wagging a rolled-up stack of paper at Horus. He had an idea. A terrible, hilarious idea. Loken and Aximond shot him a questioning look before catching a similar bout of giggles, as if they knew what he was thinking.

"What is so fu-" Tarik Torgaddon partially squatted down, hands on his knees, to meet you at eye level as if talking to a child.

"Sorry, Mum. I figured I'd... get down to your level to understand the issue at hand. I don't want to fall short of understanding."

There was an audible moment of silence. The lunar wolves were distancing themselves from the mournival and your husband, memorizing the details of the carpets.

"Get down... to my level?" You spoke calmly.

"Yes, mum."

"Because I'm short?"

"Yes."

"Interesting... very interesting... Abaddon?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Take his moustache." You replied, and for a brief moment, they saw the only look of amusement that had ever crossed Abaddon's face, and Tarik knew fear.

I wanted to have a go at doodling how I imagine the Mournival to look like - pre-Heresy kick off, of course!