He could understand where she was coming from as Ravik encountered some Mandalorians wishing not to talk. One thing for certain is that their personalities polarized with each other. Tamara was born into the culture, the offspring of the Alor of Clan Vizsla and probably took elements from others around her. Ravik? He was adopted into the Mandalorian Culture, having no value before taken into Clan Munin. But he was his own person before that chapter in his life, and that made him a very unique character within its ranks. He loved to fight, craved for it. But there were other things he liked such as socializing with others which was unfortunate as there really wasn’t anyone to talk with.
The Warrior noticed her smile, a welcoming one too. Though one thing he didn’t sit well with him was her apologizing; funny, right? It was something the Korun disliked if he were honest to himself. He remembered the times as an orphan and his fights with the others. The staff tried their damnest to discipline him, teach him manners such as apologizing to someone. He refused to utter “I’m sorry” or “Please forgive me”. A sense of pride? Perhaps. He always told himself that he should never apologize just for being himself.
If a younger him beat up someone, he’d probably come up with something condescending like, “It’s not my fault they don’t know how to block a punch.”
To this day he never apologized to anyone.
”You don’t need to apologize ever,” Ravik replied back to Tamara in a sincere, calm voice. Ironic, wasn’t it? He being one looking for the next fight and being calm. Right. ”It tends to make one conform to others, surrendering one’s true self for a mask. At least in my own personal philosophy.”
Probably didn’t make any sense, but it did for Ravik.
They walked, winds picking up and throwing sand around but wouldn’t make it a sandstorm. The Munin heeded at Tamara’s words, eyes looking at the guards of Clan Chuk. ”Yes, they seem a bit tense. They should know of our intentions here.” A hand gripped at his spear in hand, his body and mind ready for anything to come. Did they not know of the delegation here? Seemed very peculiar.
”What is your business here,” a guard demanded in an agressive tone of voice, appearing to be the captain of the guards by just how his armor was decorated.
”We are warriors of the Clans under House Vizsla. Our leaders agreed for some talks,” said a female warrior that belonged to Clan Saxon. Every Clan under the House sent there own clansmen adept in diplomatic talks. Vizsla, Wren, Munin, Fett, and Saxon with each elder taking one other warrior from their respective clan. All to try and teach something to their younger counterparts.
”Hmph, well you will have to leave your weapons with me then. Before I can take you inside.”
That right there did not sound very pleasant to Ravik. He remembered something his adopted father taught him; never willingly surrender your weapon. Doing so only invited defeat and death. ”No, we will not abide your demands, the Korun hybrid said, speaking out of turn which could mean disrespect to the captain. No doubt did the Munin elder sent a dirty look at Ravik, annoyed by the man’s interruption showing his lack of discipline.
”The feth you just said, di’kut,” the captain said in anger, taking it as an insult from the Korun as Ravik was much younger than the guard. The captain walked, fast paced steps and was right there invading the Munin’s own personal bubble with Tam at his side. A bit taller than Ravik, but size didn’t matter. Just hoped he wouldn’t demand for some apology.
”Apologize...now.” Never mind, turns out he did though he’d receive silence and determined eyes from Ravik. Like hell he’d apologize to his self righteous shebs.
[member="Tamara Wren"]
