drink! drank! drunk!

She's unbothered by his temper and instead sits back, locking her elbows, watching him through a hard stare. Ears flatten against her crown at his accusations; she isn't too old to bear children. In fact, she's had a litter every consecutive year since her second birthday, and none of the pairings had failed. "Maybe your seed's gone bad," she counters with a hiss, mind buzzing. Although, admittedly, it is slightly disconcerting that she hasn't produced a litter. This is the first time her attempts have been unsuccessful, but she won't let Tyranis put the blame on her.

The woman blows a sharp sigh through her glinting teeth and rolls her neck, clearly indiscreet in her slight drunkenness. "So, we'll try again," she growls before standing and turning her body, rump facing Tyranis now. Even in her frustration, she's still eager to concieve as any femme in heat is.

speech action