08-14-2018, 09:05 AM
He hadn’t been the kindest to Abathur. When he was trying to move his stuff into his house, Abathur had merely asked if Leroy needed help, only to get the response of a loud swear and a partial panic attack. It wasn’t the arachnid’s fault, the wolfhound had always been squeamish around spiders, even in his adult years. It was something about the unholy amount of legs, or it could be the abnormal amount of eyes, or it could by those fangs. He was used to squishing spiders beneath his paw, so, needless to say, he was aghast when Abathur strolled by that day.
He needed to say something. Anything. The actions of others over the past few days rendered much more sorrowful than he needed to be. Leroy was living the dream, surrounded by others that protect him as long as he does the same for them, and he was taking it for granted, vilely treating others as if they were the pebbles, and he was the stone. Wait, was that a good analogy? No matter.
He’d gulp, then pace out towards the much larger-than-before spider. "Way t’ go," he’d begin awkwardly, ”keep showin’ them little spiders who’s boss.”
He needed to say something. Anything. The actions of others over the past few days rendered much more sorrowful than he needed to be. Leroy was living the dream, surrounded by others that protect him as long as he does the same for them, and he was taking it for granted, vilely treating others as if they were the pebbles, and he was the stone. Wait, was that a good analogy? No matter.
He’d gulp, then pace out towards the much larger-than-before spider. "Way t’ go," he’d begin awkwardly, ”keep showin’ them little spiders who’s boss.”