By meee

When he moved, her head followed him. There was something strange about her eyes though – the way she looked at him, or, something of the opposite. It wasn’t quite precise. In his many years of life, Cesar had noted the way that most liked to make eye contact when talking. Here, it wasn’t quite right. He liked how it was strange though, and continued grinning his hollow grin. The gigantess would explain why she felt no chill, and the little heathen would tilt his head to the right with a single bird-like motion, immediately struck with curiosity. ”Hnnnn,” he cooed, ”she must burn to a crisp when it’s hot out. Poof! All gone.” He’d seen desert before. Things there looked burnt and dehydrated. He figured that if this was warm to the gigantess, stuff that was really warm must’ve been hell.  

When she spoke again, she would answer his question. Looking for a brother. The word touched something in his mind – his thoughts rippling like the surface of a lake after the gentle fall of a leaf. The idea felt… distantly familiar. A brother. He knew what that was. Did he have any of his own? The beast’s blue gaze became glassy and his jaw slackened as he strained to capture the fleeting notion. Before real pursuit could even begin though, the woman’s description of her kin ripped him back to the present, and to his childish and awry mindset. Tusks? ”Whaaaaat?” he said, baffled and pale eyes widened. ”Like a pig?! Are you going to eat him???” he was distracted from answering by the particular description, which had set off a chain reaction of various erroneous connections in his brain.

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She spoke some encrypted garble again, hiding her words from him. It didn’t sound anything like what wolves normally said, and so Cesar concluded that it was nothing outside his vocabulary, but some different language entirely. ”Durr durr mikken ploppen urken durken,” he mocked childishly, sticking his tongue out again and crossing his eyes, his nose lifted in a little snarl. She would then step in front of him, effectively blocking his view as she tried again to bully him away. She was, as most were, taller than he was. Why did she feel the need to do this? Was her ego so sodden and pitiful that it needed a good stroking from bothering strangers? The beast furrowed his brow and spat again, ”Nnn-o.” He ignored her comment about his naming of things, and with admirable agility and quickness (though minus points for grace), he scrambled off to the right about five feet, his attention partially flung at the deer thing for a few seconds. It was going down now, into the oozy depths. Its nose was still above, and its eyes – swimming with horror and agony. He could only give it a glance though, before he allowed his shifting gaze to keep tabs on the female again. His ears were folded slightly, his legs spread and bent in a practiced defensive stance, his center of gravity held steady and his muscles tense. Of course she would try something. And he wanted to bite her. Just not yet…

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