Two Rivers Isle better get back to the black hole sun

“You,” the wayfarer returned in a growl. The smile had left his dark lips and his brow suddenly furrowed over his gaze. “Ye sad sack of fur.”

His head was held low and he circled the dark lad with a cold expression. The predatory sway of his shoulders with each step was warning enough. His lengthy limbs moved him at a reasonable pace, but his eyes latched to the signs that the other male was providing. The lashing tail was enough to signal Smokestep that he was getting close to popping the boy's cool. The pirate wanted to see a show of anger; he wanted to see this dark boy make a move, in spite of the risks. It was obvious that the Kingfisher was healthier than his opponent. His coat was thick and his limbs were taught with muscle, but he had traveled all that way with a companion. Certainly, the pale brute would look more akin to the dark lad if he had been on his own.

None of that mattered to a pirate, though. He loved to test the mettle of strangers, no matter the risks. There was a fire in the molten gaze of the youthful wolf. Smokestep could feel the burning emotions in Redshank's gut. He merely wanted to pop the lid off and set them free. The choice would fall entirely on the dark youth.