Erwin never walked; he only sauntered.
When people saw Erwin coming, they would say to each other, “Here comes ol’ Erwin, sauntering down the street,” or “Mommy, why does that man walk so funny?” “He’s not walking, dear, he’s sauntering.”
It was not unconsciously that Erwin sauntered. He had made a choice, early in life – around three years of age – to not just walk like a normie, but to really draw attention with how he moved. His parents thought he was adorable, until he kept doing it. His siblings were embarrassed. His friends were only of a very particular type.
But as Erwin continued to saunter into adulthood, it served him well. Everyone needs to be set apart, and Erwin was the one who was always remembered in job interviews, on dates, everywhere.
The only time he stopped was when he broke his leg. In a cast, on crutches, one can’t exactly saunter. So, for the briefest of times, Erwin sashayed around on three legs. He didn’t stick with it after the cast was removed, though, as it just didn’t feel comfortable.