let's paint the town red

He wanted to be alone, silence and solitude all he craved at the moment so when the woman forced her presence on him he would halt, massive paws planting against the hard earth and immediately stance would widen, neck scrunching rather then lifting his skull to meet her gaze. She was smaller then him, by less then a foot like most but still considerably smaller. And where his frame was packed with muscles her's was more dainty and petite. What was she to him other then a mere fly and yet here she was fixating on him and forcing him to respond by barring his path. For a long moment green gaze would hold hers, unwavering and unblinking. Finally head would lift, drawing higher and higher until it was above her own. He didn't care who she was or where she came from. These were rouge lands and she was in HIS way. So as chin tipped down and head continued to raise in a constant reminder that he was in fact protecting his neck and ready to fight he would continue to stare her down. What could possibly do this to a man?

"Maybe I keep myself smelling this bad in hopes that whores like you might leave me alone." So many words it made his throat hurt as tongue forced itself to work for the first time in over six months. Tone was raspy and harsh, not at all inviting or pleasant to the audits and so his would fold to his skull nose wrinkled in disgust. She was a harlet, a worthless whore who thought far too highly of herself. Her stature alone repulsed and disgusted him not to mentioned she had ruined his walk. So for that reason alone he would take a step forward, drawing almost uncomfortably close to her in an attempt un unnerve and possibly rattle the female. He wanted her to shake, wanted her to beg and plead for him to grant her mercy. He wanted her to know he could and would kill her if it came to that.

Speech!