Prince Gorr leaned forward, his elbows resting heavily on his knees. His bone armor clacked together, the sound seemed sharp and jarring in the tense atmosphere of the High Hall. His iridescent, oil-slick eyes gleamed with a dark, terrifying amusement.
He knew Kira was cornered. His informants weren't random nobodies, so he knew that the Warchief's daughter had no suitors, no bindings, and certainly no life partner.
She was bluffing to save her own skin, and he was going to enjoy tearing that bluff apart in front of her entire tribe.
"Oh?" Gorr asked, a slow, mocking smile stretching across his pale, corpse-like face. "It's my first time hearing something like that. Perhaps my information network is failing me. Or maybe... you are just lying to avoid your duty to your people."
He stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the low wooden table. "Tell me then, little kitty. Who is it? Who is the man brave enough to claim what rightfully belongs to me?"
