Milos didn't like King Himos one bit, and it was definitely not a shocker as to why that was the case to anyone. Those scathing words haunted him from day one of this journey, the ghost that followed him throughout every step of the way and threatened to undo all of his progress if he so much as made one wrong step. He was content with not making eye contact, staying in the back of the wagon and watching from afar to make sure everything went well. So... this was the end of the journey, it seemed. Milos peeked over at all of the Laguz that had traveled with him— everyone, along every step of the way, had a hand in helping him. Even if sometimes, that help was a little hard to swallow.
But those were just the assignments.
The real test began now.
Stars seemed to form in Milos's head the second King Himos shifted into his beast form and began to savage Prince Wolfgang. He shivered, paralyzed with fear for just a brief moment— terror gripped him by the neck like icy fangs, reminding him that he was...
...Not...
Not a coward...
Not. A. Coward.
As if fighting through a blizzard, Milos rose from the wagon and jumped off, approaching the monster and the man who had only done his best to be accommodating. Milos wanted to scream, go back, not jeopardize the mission. He didn't wish to hear, see or speak of what was happening. And yet his ears had flown open to listen to the growls and roars that he feared so much, his eyes gazed upon the very terror that hindered him this whole time... and his mouth opened to speak.
"Leave him alone! We got your daughter back and he helped us! He's willing to make peace, why do you have to be so horrible to him for no reason!?"It all came out as a scream— Milos knew that that was the best course of action. His whimpering would not get him anywhere, and if nothing else it gave him a way to vent out loud without shrieking in terror like he would normally. And yet, despite his bold words, his legs still quaked with terror, his arms shaking and begging to reach for his sword for self-defense immediately before the King could speak or threaten him. Sweat was visible on his forehead and his heart looked to be ready to pound out of his chest... but not once did Milos lose his ground.