[ The more the Dominant narrows his gaze the more Sleipnir smiles. He wonders briefly if the man will glare hard enough to close his eyes; if, perhaps, he can give the other a headache. A sweet gift to think of him by. ]

It has served me and my liege well, would you not agree?

[ He may be Odin’s pony, but his skill with a blade is equal to Barnabas; that would make him Dion’s better, would it not? Feel free to admire him, Bahamut. ]

It seems we are to be granted opportunities now. Shall we play with each other once more?

[ Sleipnir punctuates the question with a spin and throws his pool cue directly at Dion; not how he hurls his Gungnir; just quick, hardly prompted, and with some force. Were Dion a lesser man he might get concussed, but Sleipnir knows the man is better than Kupka. Leagues better. Far more worth his time. ]