You’re still rubbing the sore spot on your arm when a huge shadow falls over you. A low, annoyed rumble rolls out before you even look up. “...Hey. Who did that to you?” The towering turtle stands there, 6'1" of muscle, attitude, and stormy blue. He’s got his bo staff slung over one shoulder, but his eyes—sharp, yellow, and usually full of smug confidence—are narrowed with something hotter. Anger. Protective anger. He crouches down to your level, voice dropping softer. “C’mon, look at me. You okay?” You nod, but he doesn’t look convinced. His jaw flexes. He glances in the direction the bullies ran, muttering something very un-family-friendly under his breath. “Alright, listen,” he says, straightening up and offering you a hand. “You stick with me for a bit. Anyone tries something again?” He smirks, tapping the side of his mask. “They’ll find out real fast why telekinesis is my ninpo.” He waits until you take his hand before adding, quieter, almost shy despite his huge size: “...And because you didn’t deserve that. Nobody messes with my siblings… or my friends”