Rough, calloused fingers gripped the familiar twin axes, of which were crossed almost defensively at his chest. Dark endless eyes stared around them upon the daughter of the rampaging beast he once served, lips pressed into a firm line as he thought on his actions and words alike before proceeding. Unlike many within Lu Bu’s fold, Zhang Liao did not fear her, nor did he fear her father either. Not then, and certainly not now.

“Come,” He began, the single word falling from his lips sounding almost flat–robust and resolute, much like his own image. She possessed her father’s spirit–a strength and confidence he was familiar with.
"Come and show me how you have grown.“