"Careful Bahorel, his claws and teeth can be vicious" warned Bossuet, holding up his own scarred hand as a demonstration.

"He's a quiet little thing normally, but when he attacks, he means business."

The description gave him pause, reminding him of the other young slip of a boy who could raze mountains and obliterate armies when roused to action. Bossuet shook his head, he wasn't nearly drunk enough to carry through that train of thought. Grabbing a beer, he decided to rectify that situation.