The Man Called Glutton
Crowley was ready as he stared out. Was it going to be another wave of the lower-tier gangs out here to get them, or would the Phoenix Gang feel like they had done enough? There was always a limit to wearing a group down.
As they successfully would defend from more and more attacks, the morale of the Howlers would grow with strength as they would start to believe they could actually win the fight. It was the perfect time, just now as the public were starting to feel safe, to crush their morale.
‘It looks like I was right,’ Crowley thought, looking ahead. ‘This is the turn in the fight, where we really need to start to show our might.’
A habit of Crowley was his rhyming schemes; it was something that he did unconsciously when he was nervous. It was why when he was teaching the AFA students just before the special lessons he would go into rhyme.