running out of muse

"Our food doesn't oblige by standing in one place waiting to be eaten, generally," he yawned, "So I don't think you're in much of a position to judge someone's hunting ability, I wouldn't think. Get back to me when you actually have to chase your food." His voice was mild, and a faint grin twitched back the sides of his mouth, but despite that there was a steel glint in his mismatched eyes. What, exactly, was this particularly mouthy prey animal bringing to his pack by allowing it to stay unmolested? They could wipe out that smirk in a single pack hunt, but he respected his nephew enough to let him have his schemes and slaves without screwing that up by eating his... beast of burden? "Have you considered that maybe the problem's in your head, Ponyboy? Maybe your lot waylaid your sense of humor along with your fangs when you started eating plants and getting eaten by everyone else." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "But what do I know, I'm just an apex predator. I couldn't possibly understand the struggles of an animal with your handicaps."