whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

[ Werewolves. Vampires. Too fast to follow effectively; he doesn't think there's a 'safe' window anywhere in here to jump in. But Arthur is grateful for the distraction of building annoyance again, staying as directed while White heads into the fray but it seems like even the third party doesn't register much - Eames and presumably Orange only throwing intermittent snaps and snarls of interest at him. Then the unholy trinity of what-the-fuck bowls out of the alley and Arthur follows because what else is he going to do?

What do you know about werewolves Arthur? Um. Silver bullets?

...

Right. Because he carries those on him all the time.

(Maybe he will after this though.)

Okay.

What do you know, period? Eames attacked because of White, one. The other wolf interfered undoubtedly because of White because he didn't go for White or for Arthur, only seemed to be interested in Eames, which could be some kind of pack hierarchy shit but Arthur isn't sure that applies to individual citizens turned...wolf..ish. Hardly look like they'd run together even if they were normally like this.

Mouth curling in a scowl again he pulls his hand away, sticky and red and eyes it thoughtfully just for a second, gaze quickly shunting back toward the rumble of fur and fangs, stepping closer. Not too close - he thinks. Somehow shouting does not seem likely to get through. Depends on how much of Eames is cognizant. White is obviously trying to hold on to the other wolf, which is sort of helpful, but he's got more power packed into his frame than must be normal. Arthur doesn't. He figures it's best not to have any illusions about Eames recognizing him through the haze of aggression; maybe he would but maybe not fast enough. Eames' bad leg carried over into the transformation though. Arthur can see him favoring and he's worried.

Shouting at him might just break his attention in a crucial moment, so he decides not to after all, but if White hasn't magically (vampirically) rolled the other wolf off enough to be called civil, Arthur keeps his eyes peeled for even the suggestion of a moment where he could do something very stupid but very well meaning - tossing one's arm in amongst wolves tending to be the kind of thing that leads to certain stuff...like losing it, for one.]

[Thrown out of the fray again! And noisely at that. Of course someone has to put their garbage out but come on. Tossing a food wrapper off of his sleeve, Mr. White resolves to go on in again. He's not bled out yet. The same can be said to the two furry foes.

Jesus Christ above that's Freddy. Green and caramel brown eyes are the dead giveaway if there was any uncertainty left. What the fuck is happening to them all? Yeah. That'll be for another thoughtful session. The old man dashes out again. Rather than trying to pry in between, he grabs a hold of the back legs of the sandy colored snapping machine. One and two.

AND PULL.]

Get. Back.

[Now his own voice is taking on an animalistic growl. If Eames so dares to make a lunge when they're trying for retreat he'll really have trouble on his paws.]

[Shoot somebody, Arthur. Unless he thinks a bullet will do more harm than good. The quadruped body check literally throws Freddy a few feet back to crash on his side but he's rolling right on up to lunge in for more...except yipe. Those hands grab him prompting the orange wolf to turn and snap at White. Too bad he's not as effective when he's got only two legs free. Freddy tries to kick Larry off, squirming and scrabbling for release to no avail.]

[ There's a spark of confusion when the other wolf appears to be moving backward instead of following through on the lunge, and while Eames doesn't move to attack, he certainly doesn't look satisfied, teeth bared with a low snarl. His head is kept low, stance wide with his shoulderblades a sharp arch above him. ]

[ With White dragging the other wolf back, Arthur throws remaining hesitance out, steps forward - not getting directly between but sidestepping along Eames' left. His voice normally low anyway is emphatic but hushed, the stern sort of snap in his tone almost military with a hand raised, palm forward, the other brought back to his throat. ]

Eames! Hey. You in there? Look at me!

[ Look at me.

And it's still more about the increase in volume and the weight thrown into the command than the words, really.

In his peripheral vision he keeps note of White still going at a retreating pace - not slow but not too fast either, understandable with the squirming tangle of limbs and fur in his hold. But they're far enough away that Arthur moves further, slightly in front of the forger, repeating his name and hey, hey just on the basis of keeping his attention.

White being vampiric, well, he's better equipped to take care of his canine problem than Arthur is, so he trusts him to it, having his own to deal with. ]

[Seeing blood in that sandy colored fur makes the old man not give a fuck about what happens to the other men. This was a fucking stupid mistake. A stare at Arthur who appears to have some sort of upper hand. He is a smart enough man not to get mauled.

The more pressing matter is this wolfish Newendyke. Fast, cold hands hold him at the scruff of his neck and on his muzzle.... Even like this the kid wouldn't eat his face would he?]

Enough, you hear me? Enough.

[To put a punctuation on this point he hauls him even farther away. The lack of gentleness is only because of concern and desperation. If Freddy were to break loose again, someone is going to die.]

[Freddy's ears go back to flatten against his skull and he's staring at Larry like a dog would wondering why you do this before his posture seems to turn inward. It's the sound of the older man's voice that breaks through to him, simultaneously giving the kid some relief that he's okay and some reason to submit. That hold on his muzzle don't feel too good too, Orange finds himself puffing his lips and whining to be let go. Pleeeeaaaaaase.]

[ Eames' attention goes from White and the wolf to Arthur, back and forth between the two several times before his hackles slowly relax. Though his lips stay, for the most part, pulled back, he slowly stalks toward Arthur, placing himself between them, ears drawn forward to focus entirely on any sudden movements from the other wolf. It looks, for all appearances, to be an end - but Eames would rather be on the defensive than trust it, least of all from someone who just bit the shit out of Arthur's neck. ]

[ His focus stays on Eames, watching the slight limp of one leg, watching the tension in his shoulders where he very, very slowly lowers a hand to rest. It's over the back of his neck actually, and his hand curls tight in the scruff of it - not nearly as low as a regular wolf, but he gets a good grip - precaution, warning (not that he thinks he has the best leverage right now.)

Even further away, he thinks White's somehow gotten Orange to settle down, enough that it appears they're not going to have an encore, which is good. Arthur would rather not be ripped apart and in a general sense, he'd rather not be shooting anyone either - even if it wouldn't kill them, either of them. Best to drag in separate directions. ] Come on. [ The pay attention is still there in his voice but there's something else too. ]

We're going.

[And he hopes that his tone alone conveys that there's no questioning it. Hands off of his muzzle. A paw stays gripped on the scruff of his neck.

Looking beyond at Arthur and Eames, Larry is at a loss for words. He couldn't help it. Should he apologize? Argue? No.

The Gambler know whens to fold em. A half turn and slow at it before he starts a pace of walking away. Yeah. Walking.]

[After Larry releases his mouth the wolf turns around to stare at the other two. A grip on his scruff and the sound of White's voice keeps him from stalking forward again but all seems well over with anyway. Still Freddy has to stare at them, from Arthur's tall bleeding form to the wolf next to him. Puff. He makes the sound a couple more times even as Larry leads him away, then finally Freddy turns his back on them to pace the old man.]

But I ain't no madman.

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