Molakatar couldnt help but laugh at the brazen speech of the Keldorei. Honestly he always did hold a little respect for their kind, despite their old female dominent lifestyle. They used to be defenders of nature, similar to Druids. But with the loss of their ancient home he had seen many fallen victim to change and many could not accept what had become of it. But then there were others like himself who pushed through that, then ones like her who just didnt give a fuck anymore. And honestly he wasnt sure if that was a bad mindset, they were against the ropes and hope was nothing but a spark. But for him, who had been through so much and had lost so much, that spark was enough for him to continue.<br/><br/>He laughed loudly as he smacked aside a ghoul that had been trying to chew on him and sliced it cleanly in half with his ax. "What are you talking about? You obviously forgot that last skirmish where I saved your sorry hide." While he talked big, that skirmish had actually been a disaster, they were scouting and lost quite a number of people. Only reason they got through it was the fact they had fought hard together. Only they had survived that little farce of a mission. He had gotten closer to the frost wyrm then he would have liked and he hacked at it with his axes but quickly fell back a bit. He knew better then to take that thing alone.<br/><br/>His axes whirled in a frenzy and a few more ghouls fell to the ground. "HAH! Only 38, I'm on 43 now, so you better catch up." Which was also a lie, he didnt keep track of his kills, in the flowing stream of undead it would have been a mess to even attempt that. "At this rate when we get out you'll both owe me a drink." He laughed loudly but was cut short by a blade in his leg. "Little bastard." He cursed under his breath before grabbing the ghoul and using it as a ram to hit his friends. "And maybe even a peek like you promised." He winked playfully, already guessing that it was a no-go. He had seen enough woman wander out of her tent in the morning, staggering but looking very satisfied to guess what floated her boat.<br/><br/>As the last of the enemies fell he stood over a pile of them, breathing a bit heavily and dripping from numerous wounds. But he didnt feel the pain more then a small pulse of lust. He always got like this after a good long fight, and would find someone to release that pent up frustration once everything was done. He looked over at her and laughed gruffly. "213, think I beat you again." In truth he didnt know how many he killed, there was too many dead.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>