[ Rafe aims a withering glare up at what sounds like the start of some whining platitude, but he gives Fenris enough credit to hear out the rest and what he hears...

Well. ]

Now you're talking.

[ And now his smile is as sharp as his words have been, as much a threat as his gaze had been a moment ago. Direct action is the surest balm to any ill he's ever had, a concrete and physical goal to pursue and pour all his frustrations into until there's an undeniable result.

He won't be satisfied until they get down to it but deciding on a course of action will do for now. ]

We're going to need to find some real hardware once we get past bare knuckles. [ The aluminum bat leans against the fridge and Rafe barely spares it a second's notice. ] Because that? Ain't gonna cut it.