Erich likes ice cream.
He likes building things with his hands. He likes driving long distances, he likes having his den pulled along behind him wherever he goes. He likes -- no, he loves his pack, mad-wise-frail-raptor Charlotte and brave-vibrant-bold-wounded Melantha. He loves his sister, he loved his parents, and somewhere in his heart of hearts he probably hopes one day he can go home again. He is a young wolf, not without his own deep scars, but for the most part he is affable. He has a good nature not entirely abused out of him yet. He would rather play than fight, but he has never yet backed down from a cause he thinks is just.
Erich is also, in his own words: a raging death machine. His affability and his good nature and his playfulness and his youth are the thin, thin chains on a bottomless well of violence that is always,
always,
so close to the surface.
--
Shouted at in turn, red rage flickers and catches in Erich's eyes. It is Charlotte's sudden, stabilizing, bolstering presence at his side that keeps him in check. Keeps those dogs of war howling in his chest from exploding through his skin. His head turns, quick, a quickquick glance of mingled gratitude and outrage before he returns his eyes to Phoebe.
And takes a step forward. And another. And then he's all but chest to chest with Phoebe, nose to nose, eye to eye. Teeth bared, eyes locked. Because Charlotte is right. This is a challenge. Because Javed is right. It has gone too far. And they are wolves, they are animals, they are incapable of backing down or moving on so long as friction such as this exists in their ranks.
[staredown time! also, note: i'm not totally disregarding social rolls! i just figure they can be taken into account in staredown mechanics by whoever moderates/STs.]
He likes building things with his hands. He likes driving long distances, he likes having his den pulled along behind him wherever he goes. He likes -- no, he loves his pack, mad-wise-frail-raptor Charlotte and brave-vibrant-bold-wounded Melantha. He loves his sister, he loved his parents, and somewhere in his heart of hearts he probably hopes one day he can go home again. He is a young wolf, not without his own deep scars, but for the most part he is affable. He has a good nature not entirely abused out of him yet. He would rather play than fight, but he has never yet backed down from a cause he thinks is just.
Erich is also, in his own words: a raging death machine. His affability and his good nature and his playfulness and his youth are the thin, thin chains on a bottomless well of violence that is always,
always,
so close to the surface.
--
Shouted at in turn, red rage flickers and catches in Erich's eyes. It is Charlotte's sudden, stabilizing, bolstering presence at his side that keeps him in check. Keeps those dogs of war howling in his chest from exploding through his skin. His head turns, quick, a quickquick glance of mingled gratitude and outrage before he returns his eyes to Phoebe.
And takes a step forward. And another. And then he's all but chest to chest with Phoebe, nose to nose, eye to eye. Teeth bared, eyes locked. Because Charlotte is right. This is a challenge. Because Javed is right. It has gone too far. And they are wolves, they are animals, they are incapable of backing down or moving on so long as friction such as this exists in their ranks.
[staredown time! also, note: i'm not totally disregarding social rolls! i just figure they can be taken into account in staredown mechanics by whoever moderates/STs.]
BECAUSE OF LIGHT AND DUTY AND REASONS.