Round Two, Jerk!

Satira did her best to avoid giving Cináed even a sideways glance while she tried to ignore him, hoping he'd just take the hint and leave her alone. Unfortunately for her, he was as stupid as he looked, and instead continued to try to speak with her. Couldn't he tell she didn't like him, like, not even a little bit? "Well, I could make jabs about your appearance or intelligence, but those felt like low hanging fruit, especially when you're reminded of it every time you look in a mirror or open your big mouth." Tira went to take another sip of her wine—only to feel the goblet yanked from her paw abruptly. She gave an indignant gasp and glowered up at Ciná's smirking face. "Hey!" she snapped while he took a long drink from her beverage, passing the now half empty cup back to her. The little wolf-dog grit her teeth together while he tried to make some passing comments about the collective crowd of partygoers.

"Do you have brain damage or something? What's the fuck's your deal, Kinder?" sneered Satira to the much larger wolf, putting hard emphasis on his deliberately mispronounced name. She wasn't intimidated by his larger size or heavier bulk. Time and experience had sharpened her into the scathing sarcastic bitch she was today, unafraid to stand up for herself against anyone. Giving a harsh and disparaging sigh, Tira dumped out the last of her wine across the terrace near his paws, hoping some splashed him before making her way over to a nearby garden table that had some bottles laid out for guests to help themselves too. Filling her goblet with something other than his backwash, Tira took a long sip, then turned and fixed steely blue eyes to him. His comment about the party being dull brought a hard and cynical laugh from the hybrid, raising an incredulous brow to him. "Oh, and you think you're so much more entertaining, do you? So tell me, Mister Oh Look At Me, why did you come here if it's so boring? I highly doubt you know anyone here."

"Satira"