Revenge of the Piss Man

If Naiche had thought Mojito weak he hadn't known the wolf-dog much at all.  Not that Mojio could know that of course, he'd respected the man, been jealous sure, and irritated that Naiche had insisted on getting to be part of Satira's life but had been pretty clearly upset with Mojito wanting to be in Arcturus'. Frankly, he was pretty tired of everyone getting to decide things about his daughter and never including him. But that was beside the point. He was certainly more open to vulnerability than many of the wolves around him but he'd learned pretty early that acting tougher than he sometimes felt got him nothing, but he was a warrior as much as he was a healer. Being willing to be vulnerable was more ballsy than any grandstanding about how strong someone was anyways, and he was a child no longer, he knew well enough he didn't deserve scorn or derision any more than anyone else. His desire to teach his daughter that she was worth more than others might tell you had admittedly rubbed off on him.

So as his unease settled into a background feeling, it was quickly surpassed by irritation. If someone or something was fucking with him then he didn't need to take that. He couldn't fight a god if what the familiars were talking about was even real of course, but he also didn't have to just lay down and take it. So as he spotted the floating metal instead of letting the flitting of panic take over he shoved it down, narrowing his eyes and stepping towards it, once, twice. Some part of him wanted to grandstand about how he wasn't just going to take someone fucking with him laying down but decided he didn't need to dignify whatever was happening here with his words. That was too good for them. He stepped right up to the floating metal piece, and with a confidence he would have lacked in his childhood years grabbed one end and, tossing his head, flung the metal piece as far as he could. Never once did the glare leave his eyes and he turned them back to where the metal had been a moment before, snorted with contempt, imagining some god's face right in front of him, and then marched away. He had things to take care of and he wasn't going to let himself be anyone's punching bag anymore.

-Exit Mojito-

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