The clown has held back.
Something uncommon for him, and he feels a weird sense of displeasure biting at his psyche. He has held back in the face of bloodshed before him, when in any other case he would've gladly joined in. However, in an effort not to disrespect the wraith, he simply gazed at the new mare spew something about "get your own." She doesn't taunt, she simply begins her fight. Her attempts to kill the boy are not good enough, and he is left with only some cracked limbs and a bruised ego. Modicum scoffs, what good could she be?
The red mare tries stupidly to fight off the raid, to which she is outnumbered. The wolf and Thana lunge at her, trying desperately to contain. Would the clown ever get a chance to prove himself to Gryffen, or would he have to sit and watch?
"Enough." Sylva's new king says sternly, and the bloodbath is over. Modicum Mortem is disappointed in the lack of death, but stays quiet, holding his head high. The raid is over, and the fiends have won. Gryffen claims the red roan as captive, and allows the blue mare to take her away before he slides into the depths of the forest.
Modicum Mortem looks over to the colt, who looks deliciously scared, and smiles. "Guess you should bite your tongue next time." He looks up to the father, then turns on his heels, brushing past the mare who couldn't even murder a child, and begins roaming through Sylva.
Proving himself to Gryffen would have to come another day.
Modicum Mortem
They all float…