Nit's eye pulsated so rapidly that in never stayed the same size for more than even a quarter of a second. Nearly on the verge of emotional eruption, they hopped off the table and snarled, "<span style="font-family: courier;">If you want a... damn fight, then don't... stall, asshole. But, really, I don't... feel like fighting. Honestly... I feel the... need of hitting... something, but not <span style="font-style: italic">you</span>. Maybe a dog. A really tiny... one that yelps like... a child when you... beat it.</span>" They seemed pretty open about their intentions then. Though they started taking long, deep breaths after they spoke, pressing the button atop their head while trying to regain their sanity. They then sat back down, simply giving Scarlet the evil eye without saying a single word. They did not even glance at their food from how seemingly determined they were to silently intimidate him. They then looked away, laying their head on the table and pulling their hood over their head, the hood appearing lumpy from their bells.<br/><br/>Marcial was looking down at his feet, looking rather forlorn from Axe's statement. He seemed rather reluctant to speak, swaying from side to side and attempting to collect the proper words to deliver a coherent answer. After what seemed like years, he finally offered his advice.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">It's not you,</span>" he began. "<span style="font-style: italic">it's them. Matias is... an odd one. As you have seen, they are capricious and caustic on a regular basis. They somewhat expect their friends to be the same, or at least willing to tolerate their hardheartedness. They're testing you, so to speak, to see if you're worth their time.</span>" Marcial paused his words to sigh lightly. "<span style="font-style: italic">It's just how they are.</span>"<br/><br/>He put a moderately-sized, wrinkly hand on Axe's shoulder, one that was warm and honest. "<span style="font-style: italic">I'm going to let you in on something... Matias barely has any friends outside the palace. Maybe two or three, all eldritches, and they'll gladly roughhouse together and tease each other to oblivion. That's all they know to do in a relationship. In fact, it's their preferred ways of being entertained by friends.</span>" He lifted a finger. "<span style="font-style: italic">But they are far from a sadist. Let me clear that up. They're more of a bully. If they can't refer to you by slurs, you're too puny for them</span>." A small smile formed on Marcial's lips, ironically. "<span style="font-style: italic">However, I've noted that they persist with you still. That seems like a sign, no?</span>"<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">I'm really not one for relationship advice</span>," Marcial admitted. "<span style="font-style: italic">I'm an advisor for policies, ha ha. But having known Matias ever since they were conceived, I can tell you that much. Make your own conclusions from that, because I feel as though I am not a very strategic man</span>."