shove it
03-15-2014, 06:49 PM
A wicked glare was raised from the ground, up the ebony pedestals of a wolf, the broad silvery chest of a male, and up to the crimson optics of a man about her age. Onyx lips would lift in a dangerous snarl as she pulled her tiara from her obsidian paws and narrowed her mismatched optics. "Escaping a crowd of angry brutes, if you must know." Sultry tones would growl, while she held the gaze of the stranger. She wasn't lying, but her tone dripped sarcasm like her favourite poison, and made it seem like she was lying. Her escape had been narrow, and she was lucky to be alive. She'd hidden away the fresh kill of a band of raiders, and they had figured out her trick quickly enough to bely their brainless appearance. "Now, what the hell do you want?" She would demand with an irritated flick from the charcoal tip of her tail. The ebony bitch did not have time to make small talk with some asshat who thought he could just waltz up and strike up a conversation like he had the right. Slowly she would heave herself into a sitting position, long, plush banner laying flush with her left haunch.
Mauve and evergreen optics would fixate upon the features of the ebony masked man, watching his emotions with a scowl. Aggravation was one of the main problems she had, and her attitude made sass her usual weapon of choice. Jet toned audits flicked irritably, flattened slightly against her skull as a result of her tumultuous mood. She impatiently stared down the male, waiting for him to respond. Was the question too hard for him or something?
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