awaiting wrath

Pestilence had hardly noticed her uncle's approach, it was not until his questioning voice broke through the silence that she looked up at him from beneath her paws. The pup watched him in silence for the first few moments, wondering what his reaction would be and whose side he would be on in their mother daughter feud. Hannibal was her uncle and a fierce warrior. He took no shit, he'd be on her side right? Pestilence grumbled softly, then rose from the dirt to sit before him.

She considered her words carefully, and then spilled. "Mom's really mad at me. I fucked up, and now I'm waiting to hear where she'll be digging my grave." It silently thrilled the pup that she could use her new-found swear words and wit she'd stolen from the blue man; she'd been much too worried to speak this way to her mother but Uncle Hannibal seemed cool enough that he might approve. Or, you know, he might not.