It might have seemed strange to some, to return to the place of his defeat. Some may see it as salt upon a wound yet fresh and raw, scarcely given time to cease its bitter seepage. A humiliation. An immersion in shame. Not to Adonitus, the Duraludon so recently come into the service of the human he had come to know as Bronze. No, to the steel warrior, this was only natural. To be defeated by a worthy opponent, to be bested by superior skill, strength, or strategy - this was a fine and natural thing, and was no cause for resentment. To be given the chance to lend claw and indomitable armour to the cause of such an individual was an honour that he was well aware of, for it was an opportunity to rise beneath the guiding hand of such a being, to achieve heights one could never aspire to alone.

That his name was a metal made him only worthier, in Adonitus' estimation. To bear one of the holy ores as a name was a sacred omen, and he counted himself blessed beyond measure to have become a knight in the service of one such bearer. They would go far, he and Bronze, and the mighty little Totodile, as well. Small the blue one may be, but his fangs were keen, and instincts sharper still.

Perhaps he would compose a poem to celebrate the occasion.

<"Oho!"> The Duraludon's hearty cry of surprise boomed forth as his mighty fist rose once more, matted in feathers stuck to his beautiful, steely carapace by virtue of the scarlet vitae that liberally spattered it. Now that was unexpected; Few could survive such a blow from him, but, he chided himself, this was the vile wretch that had brought low his warrior-brother. It was only fitting that it was resilient enough to withstand his initial assault.

<"Pray to your befeathered gods, blaggard, for you go now to meet them!"> In precisely the same motion, with the same, vicious speed, Adonitus brought his claw down to hammer into the Doduo's skull with all the force of a crashing meteor.

Duraludons could blush. A little known fact, for it was not a visible phenomenon, given that their exterior was blessed steel, but Adonitus could feel the flush creeping up his neck to suffuse his armoured cheeks with the uncomfortable heat of embarrassment. Truly, this was not going according to plan. He had intended to squash the bird with one, titanic blow, but it just. Would. Not. Die.

And his allies were watching. Neither of them said a word, or made so much as a sound, but he could feel their eyes upon him, boring into his back, could feel the weight of their judgement settling upon his soul like great boulders.

<'Please,'>[/i] he begged the gods of metal silently, <'Please let it die now.'>



Another impact of steel upon increasingly rent flesh, before Adonitus hesitantly lifted his hand, almost afraid to draw it clear, lest he be faced with the sickening sight of the grim, unkillable idiocy that dwelt eternal in the Doduo's eyes.