A heart-shaped tree standing in between human nature, and the nature we see
Oh cry me a river, Octavius - or so Koa thinks, laughing dismissively at the idea of having no honor. "'Honor?'" the younger dragoon parrots derisively, raising an eyebrow and shifting his weight "Maybe you're rich enough to afford things like honor, but the rest of us make do with what we have. You might call it dishonorable. I prefer resourceful." Yep, here it is again, the wealth disparity. No, Koa definitely doesn't have a chip on his shoulder.
But he does have a Pip. And he's not afraid to use her.
Not that it gets him the victory, but honestly? There's a certain satisfaction from seeing Octavius's smug face so openly upset, from knowing that even if he can't win a physical fight, he can take down the other boy in a battle of words. It's positively juvenile, make no mistake; but then, Koa is still a youth. Perhaps we should forgive him his occasional shitheaded shenanigans.
(We shouldn't. He's being a brat.)
The last blow hurts, the press of bruising fueling the young man's ire. But it's also satisfying, proof that he's getting under his opponent's skin. Koa shrugs nonchalantly at Octavius, flashing another toothy grin. "And take away the challenge of it?" He's on a roll now, his arms thrown wide, Pipsqueak helping with a series of hisses and flared wings. "Hey- you still won. That's what matters, right? So what if you don't have friends?" He's dropped the sword onto the ground; if Octavius wants to hit him and maintain any honor, it'll have to be with fists.
But he does have a Pip. And he's not afraid to use her.
Not that it gets him the victory, but honestly? There's a certain satisfaction from seeing Octavius's smug face so openly upset, from knowing that even if he can't win a physical fight, he can take down the other boy in a battle of words. It's positively juvenile, make no mistake; but then, Koa is still a youth. Perhaps we should forgive him his occasional shitheaded shenanigans.
(We shouldn't. He's being a brat.)
The last blow hurts, the press of bruising fueling the young man's ire. But it's also satisfying, proof that he's getting under his opponent's skin. Koa shrugs nonchalantly at Octavius, flashing another toothy grin. "And take away the challenge of it?" He's on a roll now, his arms thrown wide, Pipsqueak helping with a series of hisses and flared wings. "Hey- you still won. That's what matters, right? So what if you don't have friends?" He's dropped the sword onto the ground; if Octavius wants to hit him and maintain any honor, it'll have to be with fists.
Koa
