The white sheep of the family
Loren frankly didn’t give a shit about how it was going in Oliverland. The summoner came from a military family and had been trained since birth to be ruthless in combat. Mostly, he managed to hold back those instincts, which the other man should be grateful for; if the Launceleyn had really been trying to make this into a fight, then the newcomer would be dealing with far worse than a bruised shin.
Oliver’s fist connected with the unicorn’s jaw—it didn’t really matter if the other man hurt the creature, since again, it wasn’t real—because Loren wasn’t even attempting to keep the summons intact. However, the other man’s comments were getting on the summoner’s nerves. Time to show the newcomer just how little he really knew about combat. Ordering the unicorn to pivot, Loren basically told to bowl the newcomer over (still, though, without enough force to do more than bruise) and then sit on Oliver.
Oliver’s fist connected with the unicorn’s jaw—it didn’t really matter if the other man hurt the creature, since again, it wasn’t real—because Loren wasn’t even attempting to keep the summons intact. However, the other man’s comments were getting on the summoner’s nerves. Time to show the newcomer just how little he really knew about combat. Ordering the unicorn to pivot, Loren basically told to bowl the newcomer over (still, though, without enough force to do more than bruise) and then sit on Oliver.
Will blood tell
