[ There's a rustle of wings and scales and a 'swoosh' sound as a black, scaley dragon comes in for a landing, brushing through the tree leaves. Alacruun lands and then shakes his wings out before folding them, letting a few spare leaves fall away. He sounds more amused than anything - Arturia threw an excellent punch. ]

Squabbling already, are we? Typical.

[ His claws curl against the earth and he stretches out his head - that neck is long - and inserts himself partially in between the two. ]

As much as I'd like to see who would be victorious, we are few in numbers, so killing one another seems right out.