"I would welcome meeting him! Those that I have met upon Terra have been affable. I do not think you would lead me astray, new friend."
Drax looked in the direction that Hope indicated, squinting at the dancers around the piano bar. They moved sluggishly by his people's standards, there was far less stomping, and there were no drums pounding out a rhythm to signal any impending bloodshed.
"I once had a mate," he said, unafraid to talk about those he lost. "I met my wife, Hovat, at a war rally. The drums were relentless, and she was the only one unmoved by it. She was so immobile that she resembled a statue. I appreciated her solid beauty and unyielding resolve."
He drained all of that beer before adding, "I am also what Quill calls the suck at dancing. I prefer battle. Perhaps you or your mate will spar with me, instead."