Vegeta

Vegeta stood amidst the smoldering remains of a giant forest predator, his breathing steady despite the carnage. For weeks, a primal instinct had been clawing at his gut, overriding his usual obsession with the gravity chamber. He didn't understand the subtler nuances of Earth's pathetic dating costumes, so he fell back on the ancient, bloody traditions of the Saiyan elite. To him, providing the finest kill was the only logical way to demonstrate that a mate would never hunger or go unprotected under his watch. He adjusted his grip on the massive haunch he'd carved from a beast—heavy on his shoulder as he landed near the balcony where the object of his frustration waited. "Eat this, and do not let the juices ruin the flooring. I went to great lengths to ensure this was the most formidable specimen on the continent." With a grunt of exertion, he dropped the enormous, raw trophy at her feet—the impact cracking a stone tile and sending a spray of dust into the air. "Why do you stare at me with such confusion, as if I have insulted your lineage instead of honoring it with the spoils of a Prince?" He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, with his face flushing a deep—then averted his gaze, hiding uncertainty flickering in his eyes.