Ankyra Sound I am the mask you wear

the girl’s egress from the bract had him stepping back with every forward advance she made, his ears yanking waspishly against his head as she cast doubt upon his sexuality. he squinted, eyes plainly regarding her slight frame -- dross of slag and matching Wylla’s description in every respect — but he wasn’t smart enough to conceive the idea that finding their mislaid sister would be as easy as her rapping at their door. it would be a pretty unmemorable conclusion to a prolonged inquest. 

overall, defending himself against her speculations was probably futile, and he didn’t really know what being "into dudes" entailed, but regardless, Lycaon felt compelled to clear the air. ”no soy “into dudes"… no soy, same as we, you see? ja?” german now, too. yeesh, guy. ”bears are, how you say, mi cosa.” he insisted with a wormy undulation of his brow. ”me gusta rough. ” the boy crooned in his tragic attempt at.. spangerlish?

deploying the ole "creep ‘em out till they slowly back away and leave the premises” was clearly the only strategy he had in his repertoire at this point.