The call for warriors, the desire to shift and grow and... well, listen, it's in his best interest that they expand as they are. All of their best interest. He'd been by his father's side when that call came down, and leaving him in this state had been a little violent. The old man had tried to fight him to the door, wanting to come and brawl with the rest. Frankly, he shows up to the meeting looking like he's just been in a fight, wiping blood from a fresh abrasion on his forehead. It's fine. The old man is just stubborn, and unwilling to relinquish certain responsibilities he felt he had.
Erik had seen war rooms before, but this is... formal. Very formal. He feels out of place, taking a spot around the table. Offering a polite nod to Artorias and settling, studying the carefully laid board before him. It's a wide world out here, and they were going to make a run at things... but who?
"speech"
coded by NachoMumma
Warning: posts from this character often involve body horror.
Erik has a Norwegian forest cat that is assumed with him at all times.
