Mikael grimaced as he heard the soft footfalls of one of the werewolves come up behind him. It wasn't anything personal, although it irked him to no end to see a new recruit seemingly berate someone up the food chain, someone who had likely killed many of her kind, but Mikael just couldn't get himself to like werewolves. Fighting alongside them was one thing, but being social with one seemed downright [i]wrong[/i] to him. He swallowed his pride just before Lupa rounded the corner.

Mikael listened to Lupa introduce herself and ask for an invite before she had a strange, trance-like look come across her face. Without warning, she darted her head towards the human female. Before Mikael knew what she was doing, acting on instinct, he placed his right hand on his trusty .44 Anaconda holstered across his stomach, under his jacket. He could pull it at a moment's notice. His left hand drifted to his hip where he had a silver combat knife sheathed in heavy leather with an inner lining of lead, as to not disturb werewolves without Mikael intending to do it. When he realized Lupa was sniffing the girl, rather than harming her, as his instincts would suggest, his hands returned to their proper place at his sides. His face went from fierce to merely puzzled. 

[b]"What did you smell? Well, anyways, I had just invited Gorgeous here to lunch, so it's up to her if you can come with."[/b] It took everything Mikael had not to sneer at the wolf. While he knew this wolf wasn't one of the wild ones who had killed his family, he had made sure none left the scene, it was difficult for him to even stand near one of the creatures. He could overcome the sense of pain mixed with loathing on a battlefield helping take down the rogue supernaturals like the ones that had killed his family, but it would take quite a bit of work to overcome his learned hatred.

[b]"By the way, the name's Mikael."[/b]