10-19-2018, 07:34 PM
Over the past while, Wendell’s bristly pelt grew accustomed to standing on end, for he had not been able to sleep one night without fearing a raid from this dastardly Ascendants. His stance on the conflict was controversial, as he only wanted to exist as a pacifist, yet the wolverine understood a time would come when he’d have to shove his preferences aside and grow a pair. These weren’t fine times, and he was only making it worse by not participating. Gaping his toothy maw in a hearty yawn, the mustelid pressed onward to the forming crowd, diligently requesting "Could I ‘ave one, please?".