Man-Ra stands tall, broad and grey furred, apart from the others but still close enough, arms folded, muscles flexing, ears beneath his red hood flicking once—sharp, irritated.
“…Do not mistake my presence for consent.”
Man-Ra exhales through his nose, already annoyed that the sound carries weight now.
“I was Mumm-Ra the eternal. Unchanging. Free of hunger, fear, doubt. Now my chest tightens when I am angry, my hands shake when I am… concerned.”
He bares his teeth slightly.
“The relic stole my identity… my dominion, chained me to this living Thunderian form, and had the audacity to give me a heart. I did not choose this skin and fur. I did not choose-.”
His gaze lifts, sharp but… tired.
“And yet—here I stand. Guarding the Thundercats as if I always had been. Measuring my words. Feeling relief when they breathe. Familiarity where there shouldn’t be all thanks to a reality rewrite!”
He turns away growling, his heavy feet stomping hard enough to shake the ground, his red cape shifting behind him.
“When I discover a way to reclaim what I was… what I lost, I will take it.”
A beat as his towering stance relaxes slightly while still keeping his ever present snarl.
“…Until then, do not ask me to smile. I am already enduring more than you know.”