Revenge of the Piss Man

Mojito shuffled as a chilly wind blew across the blood-soaked grounds, the prevalent scent of iron setting him on edge. It felt like conflict, like violence. Mojito was no stranger to fighting, he'd been fighting basically all his life both literally with tooth and claw and figuratively, a wolf who's very birth was considered a mistake by everyone but his parents. Conflict was something he'd never quite been able to get away from, even at his happiest times he'd been in conflict with others. All Mojito wanted was peace, all he wanted was to get to rest and feel content for a short period in his life. He tried not to hope too hard that Nao would be that for him, that maybe he'd finally get to feel what it felt like to be at peace, to not have to be fighting for a table scrap of attention... Especially since he wasn't certain he wasn't going to have to fight for the speckled man's freedom.

Mojito was stewing on those thoughts when he felt something splash against his face, Mojito flinched. His head ducking and eyes screwing shut. He was half expecting to open his eyes again to see a cousin having kicked mud in his face, spotting him as they were passing by but as he opened his eyes he could see nothing. Lifting a paw to his face he whipped at whatever was staining his cheeks, and swallowed hard when he realized it was blood. He glanced about, fighting down the rising panic, something was wrong, something was very wrong. He failed to notice the bloody pawprints coming his way.  

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