paint me all around, in your head, in the clouds.

Eyes would churn and stretch to the sky, an blatant sign of disrespect and for a moment he would stand, upper lip twitching slightly, hackles seeming to be unable to decide where they wanted to lay across his spine. Then a simple syllable dropped from the ebony woman's lips, clattering to the ground like a stone as verdant eyes continued to narrow. She took a step forward and he struggled to try and figure out its meaning. Dominance? Threatening? Either way hackles continued to raise in disgust and annoyance even though the entirety of his right side seemed to be stuck to his skin and simply remained laying flat. And then she spoke again, so many words it almost made his skull ache. He was sick of words. "Who am I to say no?" It wasn't a question, it was a simple statement. Arcanum seemed to collect the most sick and twisted wolves out there, seemed to gather up the underdogs of society. This woman had no manners? Well he might care, Cat might care personally but really? Who was he to turn away numbers? If she could hold her own and support herself then who was he to tell her to piss off, besides? They were in the middle of a plague and their numbers were already pretty much cut in half. "We take in any and all. The scum of the earth mostly. We're a war based pack. Normally we expect those seeking acceptance to prove themselves but we're in the middle of things and I really don't care. So. What skills do you have that would make us want you?" So many fucking words! He almost hissed at them but that was the shortest he could possibly make them. Blunt enough that if she was picky or delicate his demeanour would probably turn her away. Only time would tell...

Speech!