Feel like Eating Greek

"That's wild. I've never eaten anything like a dragon before. Stolen plenty of cattle though in my time."

Daen shook his head and chuckled as Ankh told her latest story in the back and forth thryd had since they left the arena. Her stories were more varied in terms of the fantastic, suoernssuper opponents she had faced. His by comparison were fairly mundane. Wars he'd fought in, the members of his community he'd brawled with. He hadn't mentioned the incident that had gotten him banished yet, but that was his favorite story so he wanted to save it for later.

The restaurant was kitschy and almost offensive in how it was designed. Daenmor didn't know a ton about Grecian culture, but he had a distinct feeling that even ancient Greece didn't look this overtly Greek. But the decadent smells coming from inside were undeniable. "Well I was hungry before, but we better get inside before I start chewing on you. Again," he said, adding a bit of a flirtatious lilt to the last word there.

With a grin he held the door for Ankh to head inside. The place was as tacky inside as it was out. But they, like most of the businesses on the island, were accommodating to Ankh's needs. She was brought a large cushion that she could lounge on while she ate. Once they were seated and comfortable, Daenmor took off his jacket and sat across from Ankh. "This is definitely, uh... a place. Pretty over the top. Can't wait to try the food though; I could eat a large prairie cat," he said with a smirk.

"I mean, I could probably manage if she didn't struggle too much," he retorted with a sly chuckle.

Their drinks came first, a wine that was itself nothing special but apparently it was authentic. He couldn't tell for sure; wine wasn't Daenmor's specialty. The two of them were allowed to order food and then left to their own devices while it was prepared.

"Not bad," he admitted as he sipped his drink before setting it down. Leaning back in his own seat, Daen looked Ankh over with a more relaxed expression. "You were great though, really. Most of what I have experience fighting are ice dragons: it gets stale after a while. Even when they catch you off guard," he added with an unconscious touch to the large scar that spanned across his face.

"Rivals? Naw," Daen said with a big grin and a dismissive wave of his hand. "Not really rivals in any traditional sense. They were members of the community I was raised in. Fighting was common, but I uh, always took it too far I guess. Apparently Wyverns like me and my mom are more aggressive than a regular dragon."

"I've actually lost a lot of the scars i used to have from them. They've been replaced over time as I've gotten into other fights. Except this one," he said with a tap to the scar across his face. 'I go out of my way to keep this one. I got it when I was banished. The only time the old windbag who knocked my mom up ever so much as looked at me."

Daenmor was actually really comfortable with sharing this information. He had spent a long time thinking about it, and realized there was no reason to not tell people what garbage the Rukt'ins were. He downed his wine and poured a bit more for himself, setting the glass back down for the time being.

"Kindness, nah. Banishment is kind of their bread and butter. That or locking detractors up under a mountain. I didn't get banished because I was a bastard, I got banished for spitting in his face."

The food arrived and Daen nodded briefly to the server before returning his grin to Ankh. "Literally. I mean, I knew it would happen. I wanted it, in a way. You weren't allowed to leave the community unless you were banished. So I made sure he had no choice."

It was all so casual for Daenmor. He was angry at Eehol and thought the dragons who had just stood by while he threw his tantrums and ruled like a senile child were all cowards who didn't really even deserve his hatred. But he would be damned if they were going to force themselves back into his life.

"So what do you actually do here on the island?" he asked between the first few bites of his food, changing the topic to something more pleasant.

"I can't imagine sitting in one place for that long, all alone." Daenmor said as he ate, mulling over the story Ankh told him. "I felt cramped living in my original community for even a century."

Ankh was something else, he had to admit. He had only vaguely been aware of the supernatural during his time away from the Akt'Anir community, but he hadn't ever considered something as large or powerful as her existing. Her strength alone was incredibly attractive, and that wasn't even factoring in that she was supremely easy on the eyes.

"So what do you do now that you're here? Do you work? I can't even begin to imagine what kind of fuckin' job would fit your stature. Or your status."