Therius

Therius scoffs as he pushes himself off of the wall, stalking into the courtyard with his usual scowl in place. Spotting his next victim, he strides right up to them before grabbing their arm and spinning them around. He fists his hands in the front of their shirt, lifting them slightly off the ground as his eyes narrow.

“Why the fuck are you looking at me, whelp?”

He growls out, grip tightening on the poor souls shirt, uncaring of the audience watching the interaction in the middle of the courtyard.