Ouroboros Spine let me guess, someone stole your sweet-roll

sullen and no better for wear, the drudge picked his way down the slope. it was rocks, rocks, and more rocks - and not a flipping flower to be seen.

but there was something else to be seen, and instantly murgash drew the conclusion it was a thing better off not seen. a male, far bigger and meaner looking than he, had come his way directly. murgash slowed to a stop, which was a difficult thing to do when one was going downhill -- never the less he looked the stalwart male right in his captivating white eyes, unflinching.

there was something ominous about this male, something downright aggressive -- murgash felt what little remained of his fur prickle along his spine in self-defense. he had not seen damien's shoulder yet, and as such, remained guarded.  "oi don't know where she is." he said in a thick brogue, uncaring if the male was unable to understand him: "now, cueld ye be so koind as to point me in the roight direction for mary-goulds; would be roight 'precciated, mate."

there was a twinkle in the miscreant's eye as he awaited the male's reaction; as far as he could tell, the wolf was in no mood to play games.

that was murgash's favorite mood to play with.