These arms are made to smash apart peace and stoke the fires of unending war. The battlefield is no shelter for weak pups. The whelps born in these scourging flames will be forged, as sharp and unbreakable as steel.

Justice without the force to back it is meaningless. To cull the weak is the burden of the strong. All the chaff has been winnowed, imbuing the blades of the survivors with naught but pure strength.