i try warning myself

He's wild. Absolutely feral. Axe swinging, snarling, and enjoying himself far too much. Everything about Davey in this moment is brilliant, in the worst way. Abraxas flowing through him, as he throws himself into the bear. One after the next, after yet another. Blood and spit and fur flying around him, a flurry of activity and terrible gore. Dodge the paws. Don't get caught. Don't get absolutely fucking wrecked this time.

By the time he steps back to take a look at the carcass, the bear lay still. Davey is coated in gore, right down to the skin. He's incredibly proud of himself, finally setting his axe down and wiping his mouth on the back of his paw. "Fuck around and find out, I guess." And with that, he simply turns on his heel, ready to go home. The obstacle is clear now, after all.

"speech"