Swiftcurrent Creek an occupation popular with demons and ducks

she winced as his teeth bore down on her smoky cape, plunging those bitchy little cutlasses into her flesh. ohhh yes, Wylla certainly had the motive to kvetch this is what it felt like anytime her cub made use of her own fangs. of course, aforementioned cub had yet to develop empathy of any meaningful capacity and this example would serve less as a deterrent and more as an... irritant.  

she bared her teeth at him, issuing a scornful growl once she successfully snaked to her back. Rhakios grunted but otherwise didn’t seem terribly fazed by the percussion of her feet as she used his chest as a kettledrum. likewise, she was unfazed by the smelt of his glare. ha! I get that look for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. three square meals of DISDAIN of DAY, ya cretin. she shot him a glare of her own right back, lips purling snidely. 

suddenly, she remembered the stone and severed the moment of mortised contempt with a frantic sideways glance. WHERE IS IT! l'enfant terror reared her head back and spotted its glory wrong side up and out of her reach... but only just so. with a grunt she made to claw her way out of the older boy’s clutches, flooring her hindlegs hard against whatever fate would connect them with.

if that didn’t haul him off her, the next strategy was to screech at the top of her lungs in an effort to either a) grab mom’s attention or b) blow out his eardrums. whichever came first.