10-21-2018, 07:36 PM
Contrary to what Arrow Aineias appeared to believe, being taught how to be tough was indeed possible. Five years back, Leroy had been taught by those wiseguys over on 42nd street the very lesson which he’d soon enlighten his “class” on today. The memories had a fuzzy aura to them, for some pages were completely ripped out of his mental scrapbook, though the basic tips remained carved in stone, a stone which would never erode as long as the guardsman’s mentality remained intact. Confidently, these skills would be put to use in the near future, because, as far as the mongrel fathomed it, Delilah was a tiny minnow in a pond of minnow-eating sharks, and required a friendly fishing hook to fish her out of it. However, the aforementioned hook demanded a good sharpening, and that’s where Leroy came in.
"Look at us", the hound commenced assiduously, his amber glare scouring the inadequate crowd of Arrow and Aineias, ”we’re Tanglewood, a rattletrap batch of misfits. Look’t me; I’m Leroy, a giant of a dog, who came ‘ere because I got beaten by someone half my size. Then, there’s you, Arrow, who’s always a helpin’ hand, but if ya ain’t, you’re clawin’ your face off, like that other day. And, Aineias,” Leroy pronounced, approaching the shark-cat amalgam by some feet, ”this class is for people who have to learn how t’be frightening; no offence t’you, but you’re terrifying as is.”
Deliberately hastily forwarding the recitation following his remark, Leroy resumed his position atop his comfier seat, perching his tired rear unto the corrugated surface of the beanbag. Again, vibrantly-coloured bulbs met the entirety of his session, to whom he’d clear his throat and continue persist with the lecture. ”We’re an easy target for how jangled up we’re as a group. That’s why it’s important for us to focus on intimidation when you get in scuffles ‘n rhubarbs with fuckos like the Pitt.”
”Tell me quick - a fellow about the same size as ya comes over growling, obviously wanting t’share fisticuffs. Where d’you look with your eyes?”.
"Look at us", the hound commenced assiduously, his amber glare scouring the inadequate crowd of Arrow and Aineias, ”we’re Tanglewood, a rattletrap batch of misfits. Look’t me; I’m Leroy, a giant of a dog, who came ‘ere because I got beaten by someone half my size. Then, there’s you, Arrow, who’s always a helpin’ hand, but if ya ain’t, you’re clawin’ your face off, like that other day. And, Aineias,” Leroy pronounced, approaching the shark-cat amalgam by some feet, ”this class is for people who have to learn how t’be frightening; no offence t’you, but you’re terrifying as is.”
Deliberately hastily forwarding the recitation following his remark, Leroy resumed his position atop his comfier seat, perching his tired rear unto the corrugated surface of the beanbag. Again, vibrantly-coloured bulbs met the entirety of his session, to whom he’d clear his throat and continue persist with the lecture. ”We’re an easy target for how jangled up we’re as a group. That’s why it’s important for us to focus on intimidation when you get in scuffles ‘n rhubarbs with fuckos like the Pitt.”
”Tell me quick - a fellow about the same size as ya comes over growling, obviously wanting t’share fisticuffs. Where d’you look with your eyes?”.