<div class="floatleft">(https://ilarge.lisimg.com/image/11990054/934full-diego-barrueco.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Fen Ylfingr (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=303102.msg14805158#msg14805158)<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>The Group | The Arbiter, Adan, Hermes<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Gaia, Unknown<br/><strong>?Wearing:</strong>This (https://i.imgur.com/U5yYYEE.jpg)<br/><strong>?Mood:</strong>Even he's not really sure<br/><hr/><br/>Truthfully, if pressed and perhaps only to himself, he had not expected the attack to land. This was<em>The Arbiter</em>. He had expected a counter and a fist through his chest, and a small dark part of Fen was okay with that. But if he was going to die, he was going to do it biting for the throat. So as darkness enveloped him, he found himself thinking<em>'This is it'</em>, and couldn't even find it in himself to be afraid. Just tired.<br/><br/>Then of course he's blasted back, vision of another creature vanishing just as swiftly as it came. Fen is sent tumbling, sprawling in the sand and knocking into one of the others in the process. He shakes his head, sand and dirt being thrown from his pelt and all over the suit of the person he had almost landed on. He huffs, winded but not particularly harmed. Digging his claws in the ground, he's visibly debating the wisdom of another attack before he growls and stands, skin rippling, fur vanishing, and bones cracking back into place as he does. By the time he fully rises he's once more 'himself', and he spits to the ground again, wiping his chin and leaving sand behind with a grimace. "Do you even hear yourself? Fuck. You've clearly spent too long with the other robed assholes." The Elysium, he means, and his tone says all it needs to about what he thinks of<em>them</em>.<br/><br/>The blood gesture calms him, somewhat. As ridiculous as they can be, rituals are a part of their life. He knows an offering when he sees one, much as he was never a major focus of worship as Fenrir, not compared to others. Though it is less the Arbiter's words or actions and more those of the man he had half-run over that see him settled. The talk of chains has him tilting his head to look at the man, a mix of wariness and anger and confusion running through his mind. "You know me?" It is perhaps not unusual for someone to recognize him, if they were around or not on Gaia during that particular time period. But few it seems are they that would speak it.<br/><br/>Snorting at the man's words, he reaches a hand down to pull him up. "Who are you, then, dressed so prettily?" There's a grin that feels forced across his lips, and he's almost blatantly ignoring The Arbiter, but maybe this is better. He needs... just a moment to think. A grin that sadly fades to a sneer at the discussion of bravery and guilt. "If you know me, then you know my supposed<em>crimes</em>. Heh, I suppose that would be enough for them if they finally found an excuse to do it. As soon as I get my Armament back..." He trails off with a low growl, nails digging into his hands until blood wells only to heal over almost immediately.<br/><br/>Sighing, he forces a hand through his hair and dislodges more sand. "Right. Who the fuck are the rest of you?" He looks around, keeping The Arbiter only in the corner of his vision. He's tense, still wary, still... something. But evidently, they're all equally fucked. "I'm Fen." He pauses, clarifying after a moment. "Fenris. Monster of the River Van. Fame-Wolf. He Who Dwells In The Marshes. Yadda yadda." Fen gestures irritably, hands going to his hips and seemingly unable to keep still as he looks pointedly at the rest of the 'group'.<br/><br/>A glance at the flighty one has him remembering her comment of earlier, and he allows himself to smirk and grab his crotch crudely. "And please, like there's any question<em>there</em>." He points at himself, expression becoming a little more natural and at ease once off of more serious topics. "Giant wolf. Trust me,<em>everything</em>is proportional."