Shakkad.
His eyes flashed with rage, but he obeyed. He obeyed his king as he was taught to. The fool had learned somehow, learned the meaning of his name and mocked him. Akkadian-Shakkad. Guardian of His. And he called him by the possession. His. His.
Well, he was NOT his. He was not HIS since the day his brother prince was murdered. Since he left after learning a painful family secret only to find his royal family brutally executed in a bloody massacre when he returned. He’d smelled the blood, even from the distance he’d gained. So much blood, the familiar metallic tang calling to him. It was his sole duty to protect them and he’d failed them all. All he had to do was keep his brother alive and he’d failed. He’d shamed his family.
And curse that bastard king for mocking him.
You. Light brown eyes the color of the sands of his homeland zeroed in on her, sharp and expert as he took her in a glance. Small, still young. A slight lean, uneven footing. Bored of waiting. Eyes? Bold, confident. Defiant. Feet? Solid. Legs.. slender but would grow into more muscle. Would be lean and quick rather than brawny and hammering. A balance somewhere between strength and agility. That damn lean, though.
He walked a circle around her, noting more details silently. When he reached her right shoulder, he gave a sudden firm shove, forcing her to either stumble and catch her balance or tumble to the ground. He didn't look back as he continued forward a few steps, naturally alert to curb any retaliation she might attempt. First lesson.
Balance your weight evenly.
@[Ivar]