Duck Lake crown of thorns

At the point that Ira had finally scraped the last feather off of his tongue and spit it from his mouth he had deduced that he was inherently done with ducks. Forever. He 'hmph'ed ever so slightly when Fox laughed - though he grasped that she wasn't really laughing at him, nevermind that he himself was not actually laughing. Regardless, the insolent child let it roll off of his shoulders deciding that nevertheless he was probably a comical sight and in all fairness of the roles wee reversed he would have been laughing, too. Iced milky blue eyes watched her with subtle fascination as the fire kissed woman yelled at the ducks. The feathers, damp with saliva at his paws rose and fell on the slight breeze though Ira barely paid them any mind.

Currently, he was not quite sure what to make of Fox. She was different. Different than Jinx, than Tark, then any of the other wolves he had to compare her too. When she returned to him, he was greeted with a woof and a question. Parents? No. He had no such things. Once, yes, but they had abandoned him, left him to die and they no longer held any rights to those affectionate titles or esteem. "No," Ira scowled ever so slightly, tone resolute. But he did have Jinx. His Mambo. "Jinx is my guardian." He added a few seconds later, and though he would rather die than admit it he had a growing attachment to the Kesuk woman because to love her would be to destroy her.