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05-13-2014, 09:45 PM
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ULRIK the ENGINEER
Ulrik was not a matchmaker by any means, but he was an engineer. Engineers liked to create things and place objects in situations and watch them react. Maybe that was why he stepped aside, his body language allowing the little, meek mouse a chance to be in the conversation. She irritated the fuck out of him, and he wanted to bite her hard across the back and demand some confidence, like his father once had. That would be ineffective though, and may only serve to send her deeper into her little, snail's shell. The dark beast answered the boy's brow raise with a simple smirk of his own, bronze eyes glittering with a mad delight. He would let Varath in on the fact that this was a little game, an experiment. So, he asked him a question, legitimately wondering about the answer. Varath should have been a diplomat. He answered just enough of the question to be forthcoming but still managed to say nothing of relevance. Impressive. Perhaps he should mention him to Illynx about taking on such a roll, but the thought of seeking out the seductive mare was rather frightening. He wasn't sure he could handle another bout of her demanding hormones. "I am not sure when you left, exactly," Ulrik said. "Deimos is lead now along with Illynx. Farenjer and I are crafters, and I have engineered the sentinel at the gates. Lena is the healer since d'Artagnan stepped down. Now, I believe his personally chosen title is judgmental bitch." Ulrik grumbled slightly before glancing at Liit. He should apologize. He didn't. "My cousin, Torleik, is the general, and there has been talk of some sort of dispute with another band. We tried to invade two of the other herds, but it was a bitter disappointment and a clusterfuck of utter failure." Ulrik's anger was palpable on that point as well. He snorted bitterly. "You have returned to a rather lazy bunch, I admit. We need something important to make us great again." |
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