Character: Curly Butterfly
Status: Prepared

As they left the bastion behind, Curly rode within the ironbelle ahead of the rest.
The icy winds and snowy grounds left no blemishes or hindrance in its path as heating agents pumped throughout its metal shell.
As they journeyed towards the west, their path growing narrow and hefty with the frozen elements, the mecha hummed pleasantly to block out the cries of winter. If no others had a thing to say, itself would fill in the deafening silence with mechanical music.

Curly, for his part, quietly kept to himself.
He had nothing much to say to the others–he hardly knew anyone here, and he doubted anything he said would've boosted morale or bonds as they headed towards danger. So he did what he thought would be best for everyone; moving ahead, serving as their shield. Time in his father’s mecha circus did have him occasionally fighting the other performers on a wide spectacle, and while the Ironbelle hadn’t been tested in combat yet, he felt confident in its capabilities.
He helped make it, after all.

Every thought, every movement, and even the pleasant humming from the mecha stalled when a creature–no… a monster, broke from beneath the snow. Features of a bear were there, but it was so warped and twisted by bone, rotten meat, and ice, you couldn’t even call it an animal. But it was the smell that truly shook him, so foul it made his eyes water “gahdamn!”.
Yet as he looked at the creature, he couldn’t help but be both disgusted by it, and almost pitiful for it. Big, slow, crying… he didn’t know why he felt such sympathy for it, even for a moment.

Curly’s arm flared, knocking him back into the moment. Gripping onto his controls, his voice rang out to the others with a boom.
“I don’t know what the hell that thing is, but if it makes any moves, y'all get behind me!”. 
As he stepped in front of the group, the metal fans concealed on the wrists of the mecha fold into large, solid disks, serving as their shields.

Actions:
1. Ability: Ironclad (defensive)(Hardening F - Fighting Style [Tessenjutsu] [Fans] F).
2. Wait for an on-coming attack.