Disjointed Children

Irritation was something that festered like an infected wound, goading one into making poor choices that they would probably regret later. But here the silver toned creature was, his lips drawing back once again upon his features as she retaliates against the call for silence and then directly disobeys. Imonde wasn't very sure what to think of this, should he be interested that this female would not bend like a branch in the wind? Or should he allow his irritation take over and make her bend? Choices, all seeming to stem from emotions that he had not learned to control, merely because he didn't have to. Might always makes the person in question right.

Then she speaks, this time offering her name, and then saying she will call him what she pleases. This was enough, the male slowly drags his nose in her direction, tilting his head upward as he breaths in the scent within the area around them. The festering mass of hate then stalks forward, his tail curling high above his back as he narrows his eyes down to fine slits toward her. "You will me Sinclair in the presence of les-sers, or you will find yourself playing host for my ire."

The dark warning made him shake, his body doing a leisurely shimmy as his coat fluffs out around him. Finally he drags his attention back toward the female, who's face now had a name attached to it. "Very well," he mutters before yawning, lips lowering back over his fangs before he turns and casually begins to follow her.


"Speech"
'thoughts'