A heart-shaped tree standing in between human nature, and the nature we see
It's the condescension that really eggs him on, confirms that Koa's right, that Octavius does look down on him. It doesn't help that the other boy has draped himself on the weapon rack like he bloody owns it, looking oh-so-smug and comfy while the younger Dragoon sneers. He clenches his hands at his side, white knuckles betraying the surging adrenaline beneath a calm(ish) exterior. He can feel the pulse beat in his throat; it feels like the moments before a fight, when he's hyped himself enough to enjoy throwing that first punch.
But Koa doesn't punch Octavius; at least, not today. Nor does he take the bait. Instead he shrugs, waving a hand dismissively. "Nah, wouldn't want to damage that pretty face," the boy laughs mirthlessly, tossing a flippant smile. "This was fun, though. Let's do it again sometime. Preferably after you get that stick out of your ass." He picks up the sword and starts to walk away, grip on Pipsqueak tight.
But Koa doesn't punch Octavius; at least, not today. Nor does he take the bait. Instead he shrugs, waving a hand dismissively. "Nah, wouldn't want to damage that pretty face," the boy laughs mirthlessly, tossing a flippant smile. "This was fun, though. Let's do it again sometime. Preferably after you get that stick out of your ass." He picks up the sword and starts to walk away, grip on Pipsqueak tight.
Koa
