「 Skill Point ― Warrior 」

Perhaps it was the wolfish ways that came so easily to the body, all he could remember was the canine body after all, or it was mayhaps his lack of socialability. Either way, Asgeir found himself on edge still, even as the man before him answered his question and flickered between the different emotions. One tempted the battle, while the others tried to lower Asgeir's guard.

Each motion made him wary, to the point where when he reached out to the boy, Asgeir found a growl rolling his throat and jerked backwards.

Do not touch me! his retort sliced through the air, his head lifting proudly as if trying to hold his ground against the larger man. Still, his chin remained tucked, ears flattening to his crown. Even his tail ticked behind him as narrowed eyes remained trained to the red man, this Thorvald.

He took a couple of moments to calm himself and assess the situation, but still his walls remained high, caution thick in his voice.

I am Asgeir, Son of Tyr,

The man had a slight scent of his father on him, it was faint but there, and that meant he hadn't been chased out. Asgeir tried to swallow his pride, he really did, but it was so hard when such anger festered inside of him.