\\C\\W\\\ Death\\\\
Damien hadn't spoken. He stood slightly apart, his body language screaming predator, and Exile could see the way the nearest males instinctively leaned away from him. Smart. They could sense what he was. The snake beastman's tongue flickered once, tasting the air, cataloguing threats, and identifying which of these fools smelled most like aggression.
The woman was still talking, her pitch rising. "And I won't stand by while you keep her contained! She needs to choose for herself! That's how it works! And I have the strongest males here, all max level sixty, so you HAVE to listen to me!"
Victor's wings flexed once. A subtle threat display that made the front row flinch backward. "You don't know her. You don't know us. And you're putting every male in this crowd at risk." Victor took a deep breath in. Then, almost bored: "And level sixty? What are you, babies?"
