cut our teeth and make our bones right here

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

"God, me with a weapon. Who could imagine." The wendigo retorts dryly with a roll of his eyes. "Well, I suppose you'll just have to read them to me on our next hunt. Probably for the best that way, or else I'd pronounce the words all wrong." He would anyway, just to annoy Ronin.

"Perfetto." Remi trills in response as he lets his Italian hand drop into his lap that he might hold up his much more damaged one to answer Ronin's question with.

"I don't think so. Not unless we cut or re-broke something." The wendigo replies, glancing down at his scrawny chest with a frown before pulling his hospital gown back over his shoulder. "I was never given an instruction manual, but as far as I can tell, it isn't like the way they show it in the movies." No perfect Wolverine healing abilities here. Healed meant healed, it didn't mean picture perfect. "Not that I have anyone to impress, so.." His thoughts turn uneasily to Isla, the juxtaposition of how perfect she was suddenly made all the more painful in relation to what he was now (a mess, instead of just a monster).

'Oh?' Remi muses as he leans against the bedframe. "Maybe someone could argue that I got worse under just her care. Without Isla around Grimm fitted me with the device that almost let me kill myself, so..." Remi raises his eyebrows suggestively. "Historically someone could point out that I've been much better behaved with Isla around."

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!