Ogres fought. They destroyed.
Red hell, that was practically the only reason why they were still around. They were strong, hardy, and generally fucked up anything that got in their way.
You’d think others would realize how bad of an idea it was to piss an ogre off.
Ears pinned back and teeth bared, he lets a growl rip from his throat to chase off one of his subordinates, very much not in the mood. They were used to the treatment and didn’t take it personally, but he still felt a twinge of guilt. It was for their own safety, but it was harsh.
Of course, the guilt never lasted long, as usually once he was suitably annoyed to this state nearly anything would make it worse.
And sure enough, at just that moment he heard the one thing that he just didn’t need to hear -- that laugh.
Now, he had nothing against Sera personally -- sure, she could be a bit annoying, and a bit of a shrew if you asked him, but since they’d been working together in the Rebel Army and after the end of the war they’d rarely had issues.
But damn that laugh to Hades.
Before he’d even realized what was going on, he’d whipped to one side and rammed the nearest wall -- thankfully not burying his horn in it. To his credit, Panchos only flinched slightly at the sudden noise and movement, then simply moved to turn the communicator off before the others could ask questions.
Stress from coordinating the rebuilding of Scorching Flame, he’d explain later in apology. Red Magnus...hasn’t been feeling like his normal self for a while. I’m sure things will return to normal once this is all over.
“Master, you really need an outlet...”