Unfortunately Mandatory

"Talk" Walk

The raid had gone as expected against the Armada. After all, beating them twice in a row would've been like trying to hold water, no? They had bested them once before on their turf, but the Armada had managed to best them on Raider turf this time. At least he had left a memento on the one bitch to remember him by, and in turn, her boyfriend or whatever he was to her (why else would he have been so riled to take a piece of him) had stripped his back like a potato and the Crimson Wrath was currently on heavy painkillers and his wound was tended to and healing. Though he knew it would scar heavily, and whether or not the fur would grow back if at all, was yet to be determined.

When Gil called for the pack together, he sighed as he rose to his feet. The skin on his back made him wince as it pulled from the motion, and his muscles ached and protested when he started moving. He was getting on in years and had a feeling that sooner or later, he should probably chill on the whole trying to fuck everyone up aspect. But that day was not today, nor would it be soon.

He arrived to find a handful of the pack gathered. Rivin was there lying around with Calico Jack. The slightest quirk of his brow had him curious about the two, but he dared not approach them right now. His kids hadn't exactly been happy with him, so he opted to move and sit near the opposite edge of the group where he carefully lied down so as not to further aggravate his new wound.