If The Sky Comes Falling Down
06-07-2014, 12:50 PM
The hulking brute scoffed. Fat? How could she hardly call him fat. He had been worn down to nothing but muscle and bone by the harsh turn of the season, but perhaps his coat gave off the illusion of weight. It was plusher than most, he supposed. Maybe? Fuck, he didn't know, he'd never had to think about it before! He rolled his eyes at the small fae, deigning to comment. It was not enough to stop her though, and the small creature continued to prattle on, despite his apparent apathy. "I know I'm small," she claimed, "You didn't know how dumb you looked!" She made as if he had thanked her, and his fur rankled. The man held in a growl, or a sharp cuff around the ear. He had half a mind to bowl the rat over and teach her some manners. "The only thing that means less to me than your perception," he grumbled under his voice, and began to walk once more, "is your opinion." The girl had caught him in a better mood than most days, though he was doubtful that it showed. The ambient warmth (compared to where he had come from) had lifted his spirits some, though he still didn't know what he meant to do now that he arrived. He had considered finding a pack to winter with, but the last time he'd tried that it had ended in a duel and a hasty retreat. Not an experience he'd care to repeat. The charcoal man ground his teeth and allowed his eyes to narrow into a glare, though what it was meant for specifically he couldn't say. It was closer to a permanent physical feature than a choice or expression. |
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