Syte Scraps (Unfinished WIPs)

“I know you'd hate to see something happen to Hive, is all I'm saying.”

Vulf considered himself an expert on the art of communication, years of operating on the web giving him valuable experience in peddling his wares and negotiating with his kin. He knew what to say, when to say it. For the most part.

Strike had always been hard to read, in particular. It's sunken eye, pinhole pupil, and perpetually clenched teeth gave the impression of somebody always in a state of fear and duress. Vulf found that it was hard to differentiate Strike's apathy from his anger.

And he'd made Strike particularly angry tonight.

Vulf had quick reflexes- he toppled back in his chair mere moments before Strike lunged across the desk. Text files flew into the air, a blizzard of pages and torn paper.

Vulf blocked his face with his arms- and Strike only sunk his metal fangs into the wolf's forearm, not reacting to Vulf's yelp of pain. The unraveling code of Strike's clawed left arm hummed and sparked as a fist bunched the fabric of Vulf's shirt, tugging Vulf up to meet its gaze.