The breeze is light on Runt's new dragon wings as his powerful body thrums with new-found power and strength. His meals were good to him, but now it was time to put his power to the test. True, the angels lacked creativity, choosing instead to revel in someone else's creation, but Runt and his demonic kin lived to create and cause chaos.
A fast, fiery ball of light approaches him from the left, and he decides to land on a nearby rooftop, away from prying eyes, and backup, in case the Angel called in.
As Runt landed, he felt his corded muscles bunch and flex. He smirked at his much more masculine physique, the brick abdominals, the mountainous biceps and pectorals, as well as the rest of the muscle that came with absorbing a dragon and a lusty, foolish human. He was confident in his abilities. He would win any brawl that this confrontation was likely to end in.
To his utter shock however, a hunky, blonde headed warrior landed before him. He lacked the finesse one would expect from an Angel, and his appearance was far from clean cut. The stubble at his jaw, the golden tattoos that adorned his skin, wings that were scarred and weather-ridden, and his warrior armor that looked better suited to spartan battle armor than on a cloud patrolling paradise. He looked rugged, handsome, and downright sexy.
And Runt was determined to have every ounce of that rugged power from the stud before him.