in the house of flies

*Cesar* · 09-30-2015, 06:49 PM

He was pleased when the other wolf declined, said that he’d been eating birds. The imp nodded, and then dropped himself once more into his pile of mush. He looked up towards the other wolf while he asked a question. ”Punching bag?!” he squeaked indignantly, eyes widening. He hopped up again quickly, having smeared more rot onto his stomach. ”Nuh-uh! Cesar once beat up a wolf thiiiiis big,” he stretched and reached up far above his head. It was a true fact, but easily unbelievable to a stranger (and strangers were all that Cesar knew, anyways). He licked his lips and tilted his muzzle to the side, looking at the other from the corner of his eye with a sudden sheepishness, almost. ”It’s just, everybody’s very mean,” he added – explanation for the abundancy of his scars.

With a small grunt, he’d step forward, pressing through the briars to head towards the stranger with curiosity in his squinting, pale eyes. He squeaked, pausing for a brief moment after clumsily scraping his right foreleg on a thorn. He smacked his lips again as if it would help, and turned back to look towards the other wolf, forgetting the superficial but stinging scratch already. ”When did the white wolf eat the black wolf?” he asked, his eyes focusing intensely upon the other’s face, unblinking. There were two. ”Does the black wolf get to talk, or just the white wolf? What are their names?” he asked quickly, his voice sounding distant.

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