right in the eyeball

*Cesar* · 02-27-2015, 06:04 PM

She spoke some encrypted garble again, hiding her words from him. It didn’t sound anything like what wolves normally said, and so Cesar concluded that it was nothing outside his vocabulary, but some different language entirely. ”Durr durr mikken ploppen urken durken,” he mocked childishly, sticking his tongue out again and crossing his eyes, his nose lifted in a little snarl. She would then step in front of him, effectively blocking his view as she tried again to bully him away. She was, as most were, taller than he was. Why did she feel the need to do this? Was her ego so sodden and pitiful that it needed a good stroking from bothering strangers? The beast furrowed his brow and spat again, ”Nnn-o.” He ignored her comment about his naming of things, and with admirable agility and quickness (though minus points for grace), he scrambled off to the right about five feet, his attention partially flung at the deer thing for a few seconds. It was going down now, into the oozy depths. Its nose was still above, and its eyes – swimming with horror and agony. He could only give it a glance though, before he allowed his shifting gaze to keep tabs on the female again. His ears were folded slightly, his legs spread and bent in a practiced defensive stance, his center of gravity held steady and his muscles tense. Of course she would try something. And he wanted to bite her. Just not yet…

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