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

'A good boy, is it? How much extra do those lies cost?' Something about imagining Ronin being praised as a good boy, was both hilarious and vaguely heartbreaking, even if the only place such words were ever actually said to Ronin was in Remi's own musings.

"It sounds..." Narrowing his eyes even as the strangely muted cry continues to warble in his ears, the wendigo finds no words to convey what he means. With a little shake of his head, Remi moves off toward one side of the alley where various crates have been heaped next to an overflowing dumpster. The fact that the majority of the slush around appears undisturbed is all the assurance the wendigo needs that what he leaves here will likely still be here when the pair return. Shrugging out of his trenchcoat and shoes, Remi reaches for the walkie and places it on one of the crates before slipping out of the remainder of his clothes. Something about this process feels weirdly intimate given the friendship that the pair have properly struck up, and it's with an awkward clearing of his throat that he turns slightly away from Ronin despite the hunter having seen him naked multiple times.

With an organic crunching sound, Remi shifts until all that's familiar about him is the too-pale colour of his sunken eyes in the dark hollow of a too-large skull. Tilting his head again, this time the angle is grotesque and impossible, as he listens. It sounds... Reaching for the walkie with long boney fingers, the wendigo considers. ...like it's being sent through something.

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

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!