Mauve flexed his hands and through the tips of his fingers, sharp claws pulled out even bigger than they had been when he climbed.
He raised his arms up and with several swift movements, went on to slash at the metal blockage.
A werewolf's claws were the sharpest thing that could cut through anything if a werewolf knew how to take care of it.
Mauve takes great pride with his claws, as he had been one of the very few werewolves that Lieutenant Commander Twil complimented with his natural arsenal aside from his affinity for tracking.
He could still remember it, the immense honor that welled inside of him as Twil uttered positive words that uplifted Mauve's spirit to strive harder in his career as a faey militia warrior.
Sparks flew as the werewolf's claws hit the bare metal, and in due time, the blockage was successfully shredded and ripped apart.
