like a no-tell motel painting

She figured through his patchwork guise, but it meant nothing in the face of stubborn denial. He continued to frown, his brows pressed down over his eyes as he watched her croon with some sly humor. He wished he could think of a witty retort, but he only had about a fifty percent success rate in that department. Instead, he just kept on scowling. It was pretty much all he knew how to do. ”What’s it to you?” he snorted. ”Wanna fish for compliments, love?” he asked, the stubborn tone to his gravelly voice starting to fray.

The female snorted, dismissing his accusation. She sat and cocked her head at him. Her persistence was annoying. ”I think that’s something a stalker would say,” he said straight-faced. The sentence, in essence, was somewhat humorous, though not necessarily intended to be and also stripped of any claim to comedy by the brute’s face and voice. She kept talking, seeming rather confident in herself. Really? A white wolf in a barren, brown plain? He knew that neither of them ought to be able to hide for shit anywhere around here.

At this point, anyone’s face would have started to ache from the effort of turning a few muscles down in the bothersome, ugly display that he had. He didn’t notice. Why was she still here? Why did she seem to care at all? She was pretty, and another man might have thanked the gods for a chance to talk to someone like this, but Svetovid was very, very bad at social interactions. Perhaps a bit of an introvert, stuck stowing away in a callused shell of isolation. Maybe it was possible to hide out here.

He sighed then, his expression loosening. He looked down then back up at her, his brow knit with a sort of yearning melancholy. He took a step forward. ”Honestly, you… you reminded me of someone,” he said, sounding genuine. ”You look a lot like the girl that ran away from my den last night. Wanna gimme a kiss? Charity for a broken soul?” the act dropped quick as a broad, fang-filled grin split across his face and he advanced towards her with no intention of stopping. To hell with anyone who said he had no sense of humor! Maybe she'd get grossed out and run away. Svetovid was quite bad with the ladies.