[ He can't even begin to keep up with that volley of emotions Set feels regarding Gen, a confusing, inexplicable mess that he lets pass over him. Amos remains large and imposing as an animal staking its ground, the impression of a curled lip as Set taunts him, as though he doesn't know exactly who he is despite the mocking language. There is a low growl as Set dances along his spine, but he does not flinch. It's not real; the fucker can't hurt him here.

Except for when Set outright states that Amos is a failure as a protector. His teeth snap shut, whether there's anything to be caught in them or not, animalistic as his fury is spurred on with no obvious sign of relief. ]

You go near him again and I will rip your throat out. [ His voice is low, clearly enunciated. Not a threat, but a promise. ] I will take your shard and crush it in my bare hand. He is the last person you will play games with, do you hear me.

[ Because Amos remembers the state Gen was in when Set left them — bloodied and pained, yes, but with something fucked up and sad going on in his head that Amos could feel by virtue of their shared aspect, but could not understand. Could not comprehend what Set had done to him to make him feel that — and his rage only runs hot in the here and now because of a beating, bleeding heart of love for the kid, a need to ensure he never feels that way again. Whatever Set did to him, it ends now. ]

I know exactly what you are. You treat people as your playthings, fuck with them, cast them aside when you get bored and move on to the next one. I'm telling you it's over. You can't do it to me, and you won't do it to him.

Now where the fuck is my gun.