09-25-2018, 02:23 AM
Politics. Bakugou knows that it is impossible for him to ever lead a Clan, or at least not while he is like this: too hotheaded, stubborn and with a knack of ruining relationships. Even with Bakugou's promotion to reaver, the male adopted little changes into his lifestyle other than begrudgingly taking on more tasks. He won't even so much as bat an eye at the idea of visiting The Typhoon's allies unless someone specifically spelled it out to him. Gifts. Bakugou doesn't do gifts. He is better at maintaining enemies than he is at maintaining friends. The only reason the male doesn't have a ridiculous cue of haters after him was because their Officer acted like a sponge, absorbing all the hate that everyone else was too drained to go out of their way to bully him back. This, of course, doesn't exactly bother him. The reaver finds himself with a lot more time to focus on other tasks. He has peace and quiet to train, focus on moves similar to how he had battled in human form, understand the limitations that came with bipedalism. The ragdoll has also had time to perfect certain kinds of blacksmithing, being much better at determining the perfect heat to blast at stone and metal. There were less accidents, less burnings of his pelt or accidental cuts and scrapes. He was far more precise now, much more focused.
He also found himself adopting a usual route of patrol, familiar with the grounds of their island that should the leaves blow a different way, Bakugou would notice. Of course, this path that the reaver was following would lead the male to eventually find the lion seated at their border, patiently waiting with a basket that sparked the male's brimming curiosity. He still held the wonder of a child, eyes twinkling at anything that caught his interest. Of course, Bakugou would do his best to not allow others to notice but it was clear as day that when Bakugou became curious, he was curious. As ironic as it sounded, curiosity killed the cat. Saying it now had such a painful meaning. He was a sixteen-year-old human in a child's body, having only turned eleven moons five days ago. It sounded so young because he had never really thought about the way animals aged. Too fast, he thinks and with the mind of a human, he feels that months go by too slowly. "Yo, what's the basket for?" The reaver asks in a casual manner, noting the lion's scent to be that of the Rosebloods. He has seen the male at their social gatherings before so Bakugou is able to relax his shoulders just a little, smoke dissipating from his fur. "Uh, Bakugou Katsuki, if you didn't know. Reaver."
He also found himself adopting a usual route of patrol, familiar with the grounds of their island that should the leaves blow a different way, Bakugou would notice. Of course, this path that the reaver was following would lead the male to eventually find the lion seated at their border, patiently waiting with a basket that sparked the male's brimming curiosity. He still held the wonder of a child, eyes twinkling at anything that caught his interest. Of course, Bakugou would do his best to not allow others to notice but it was clear as day that when Bakugou became curious, he was curious. As ironic as it sounded, curiosity killed the cat. Saying it now had such a painful meaning. He was a sixteen-year-old human in a child's body, having only turned eleven moons five days ago. It sounded so young because he had never really thought about the way animals aged. Too fast, he thinks and with the mind of a human, he feels that months go by too slowly. "Yo, what's the basket for?" The reaver asks in a casual manner, noting the lion's scent to be that of the Rosebloods. He has seen the male at their social gatherings before so Bakugou is able to relax his shoulders just a little, smoke dissipating from his fur. "Uh, Bakugou Katsuki, if you didn't know. Reaver."