Wheeling Gull Isle and i smashed those tiny mirrors inside of your skull

Whatever composure he had slowly diminished as one degrading word followed another. When she stepped forward, he stepped back. When she glanced at his missing leg another wash of embarrassment shot through his body. And when she finally reached him he was no longer standing tall; he was hunched over in a defensive position. He hated how four simple words pierced through his tough skin.

I'm not a fucking rat, he hissed. Orochi dug his paws into the sand. Take it back.