Dovian slowly moved forwards, his dark, midnight-black robe flailing behind his illusive body in a dark, submissive manner. His crimson skull stood out underneath his bold, disturbing hood. It's purpose of concealing his identity successful, however, his skin color gave away his prominent race.
The young Zabrak's eyes slowly examined the scene. It was disgusting. Once again, his brother had entered a scuffle and it seemed like he needed assistance. Assistance he wouldn't be receiving unless he begged for it. Dovian didn't have a slight ounce of care towards his brother. The male may have saved him from near death, once upon a time, however; these times were different. The hate that he held for his brother was almost equal to that of the Jedi that abandoned him. The only reason he actually held the option of assisting his brother was simply because they were both of the same kin. He couldn't betray one of his own kind, despite the amount of distrust that rested between their relation ship.
With that being said, Dovian allowed his hands to quickly swoop into the barren reaches of his cloak as he grasped hold of his lightsaber, preparing for combat, if he was to actually enter it, that was.
[member="Maleus"]
[member="Kycoros Oberon"]
[member="Z19-20D"]
[member="Carden Lorps"]
[member="Aeon Caedus"]