Headed by a Snake

Haelvia crossed her arms, tapping on her bicep.

The Centurion asked... if Loki was here on her behalf.

The honest answer was... a resounding 'no.'

...but was that the *correct* answer?

Loki looked down for a moment... and smirked, "Yeah?"

Raising his head, he pointed his chin towards the disgruntled Centurion and patted his palms against his chest, "So... what if I am?"

His bluster reminded Haelvia of... a scared hen raising its hackles.

Whatever he was trying to do, it wasn't appropriate in front of their present company... whether it was the Centurion's role as the man in charge of his pay or as the strongest, most veteran, and most undeniably alpha wolf in their hundred-pup pack.

The cold, glowing eyes of the wolf helmet had focused on her.

Haelvia smiled half-heartedly... She took special care not to bare her teeth, just in case the Centurion might see that as a sign of aggression.

"Is that so...?" The wolf growled.

Optio Phaedra sighed audibly. She leaned towards Haelvia, keeping her voice low... "I'd heard you two didn't get along."

"Optio?" Haelvia tilted her head.

The older woman shook her head, "If the boy was worth anything, at all, you would have covered for him."

...Oops.

Haelvia clenched her eyes shut, realizing the truth in Phaedra's words. Her subtle response to the Centurion meant that she'd just left her teammate to die.

She cleared her throat and tried to speak up-- "Centurion, if you'd allow me to ex--"

"---Hold your tongue, Lass," Januarius cut her off as he stood up from his seat.

"Centurion, shall I cut off his fat tongue or his tiny cock?" Optio Phaedra suggested. At the same time, she loaded her crossbow and racked it back.

It took an obscene amount of strength to do so without a loading tool.

...Though the irony of her brandishing her crossbow and threatening to sever Loki's fleshy parts seemed to be lost on her.

'Flame take me,' Haelvia cursed in her mind. 'Sorry, Loki. I tried. I didn't try very hard... but that's about as much as you deserve, you criminal.'

"I'll handle it," The Centurion began walking around the table towards the arrogant boy.

Steeling his courage, Loki stood on his tiptoes and raised his arms beside his head, "You want a piece of me, old man? I ain't scared o--"

"⌈Wolf Fang Hurricane Fist.⌋"

Centurion Januarius crossed the distance to the boy in a crimson flash, slamming two palms into Loki's chest. A series of fists trailing with red mana smashed into the boy's torso, followed by a brutal kick to the thigh.

That... didn't look or sound like anything out of a Tyrion manual. But the Skill did have 'wolf' in its name, so Haelvia decided not to think too hard on it.

Loki fell onto the ground, rolling in pain... which only bid the wolf to press his advantage.

Januarius plowed two more unforgiving kicks to the boy's side, then powered a final red-trailed fist into his gut. The boy loosed a dramatic wheeze... and fell unconscious.

"...Would you, uh... like some help, Sir?" Haelvia offered.

Phaedra gestured towards the command tent's storage chest, "If you'd like, I can grab a set of spikes and a mallet."

The Centurion shook his wolf-head, a quick and curt 'no'. Grabbing onto the boy's collar with one hand, he unceremoniously tossed him out of the tent.

"Phaedra," The wolf spoke aloud as he calmly rolled his right shoulder, "take the puer to the infirmary."

"I hear you, Centurion," The Optio stood up, and after giving Haelvia a brisk nod, left the tent to deal with the aftermath.

Januarius turned back towards Haelvia, his expression well hidden by his full helmet, "The boy did not accompany you at your behest."

...It was almost as if he was asking for confirmation. Haelvia smiled as politely as she could. Even if that wasn't the case, it was already a fact that Loki had already been severely beaten.

"Aye, Centurion," Haelvia nodded... "Though... I think that might have been a strong response, no?"

"...Probably," Januarius shrugged.

"...Is Optio Phaedra really going to cut off Loki's thing?"

The Centurion stared for several seconds before speaking again, "Pour the drinks, Lass. The wine in the painted skin is already watered."

"I hear you, Centurion," Haelvia chuckled uneasily as she reached for the wine.

Optio Phaedra was a terrifying woman.

Centurion Januarius was a straightforward, no-nonsense man. Guild Metal Wolf had taken plenty of precautions on their journey and was well-prepared, even for their trek through the dry deserts and the mountains soon after.

After Haelvia poured the drinks into the two wooden cups, she took a sip from her own.

The wine the Centurion drank was watered just as heavily as the wine rationed to his wolves. The meals were rationed as well, but were generous. Everyone ate their fill with little complaint, since they'd been marching for so many bells in the sun.

The wolves stayed hungry... wanting... for the next drink and meal... for the next mission and the subsequent paycheck.

Haelvia appreciated that the Centurion was such a business-minded individual... but there was more to running a guild than just the numbers.

"You know, Centurion... Loki is well liked in the company."

Left unspoken was the fact that she was not. If Loki used his popularity to complain... it could make things difficult for the Centurion.

...Though she doubted that the Centurion would care.

Januarius was known to act without regard for things such as human weakness or compassion.

Good soldiers follow orders... and that was that.

...It made Haelvia feel a tinge of compassion for her Optio, for having to deal with that.

The old wolf crossed his arms, "He's also an arrogant little shite who thinks he's invincible. It's going to get him killed... probably sooner rather than later."

Fair enough.

"Besides that, Centurion... what you've summoned me for on this particular sun... you're going to give me a mission, right?"

"Aye," The man nodded.

"Loki... is also a Divine Armor pilot."

"Aye."

"...So it would be fitting to have him also here... to also receive the mission."

The wolf did not respond... staring at a fixed position across the tent.

Haelvia frowned... "Did... you forget, Sir?"

Januarius unbuckled his helmet, removing it and placing it on the table beside him. He took his winecup and drank deeply, draining it in three slow gulps.

"...I didn't like the way the boy looked at me."

Haelvia shook her head and sighed again.

That... was also fair.