“Who are you?” He snaps at the girl, the base of his horn bleeding profusely from his fight with Toga. The dog general had bested him— something Kirinmaru hadn’t expected —and he was angered by the mere act of losing.

To make matters worse, his horn had been damaged in the fight, sliced clean off by the dog general, and he found himself in excruciating pain. He had never been hurt like this before— had never felt this sort of pain before —and it disgusted him how weak he was at this moment.

To be seen by the likes of you— a human, peasant girl from the looks and smell of it —was only making his mood worse. “I do not need your peasant herbs.” He seethes at you.