Blackfoot Forest and she left her land — chaos

an ungodly noise begun — or perhaps he'd begun to hear it the closer he drew to the sound and had whatever was happening had been happening for some time prior to his meandering in that general direction, it was hard to say — startling taarlok out of his thoughts that had, admittedly, wandered. his ears cupped forth atop his skull alert only to swivel back with thinly veiled annoyance as he is given a very brief reprieve for the noise only for a similar noise to start up soon afterwards. how was a man to hear himself think with all that ungodly ruckus? he wasn't.

the closer the imperial drew to the origin of the noise his ears tapered back to rest against the curvature of his skull as if it would block it out. it didn't just as taarlok suspected it wouldn't. initially he planned to skirt past, maybe throw a glance to see who and why was causing such uproar among the previously quiet forest before moving on as if he wasn't even there but his plans changed. his steps slow to a cease as she comes into view, slashing at the tree with her claws. mercurial gaze flickers upwards ever-so-slightly where the rough bark of the tree had been mangled away to reveal younger bark smooth except for where teeth? ( he suspects ) had mutilated it. "my god," he draws, tone raised with the clear intent of grabbing her attention even as fury induced as it is. though the imperial values his pretty face far too much to have it mauled in such a brutal manner he just can't seem to help himself ( rip ).

"what has that poor tree ever done to you?" in lieu of the annoyance he'd been feeling build up his richly accented timbre of lacquered velvet dripping honey held muted amusement. taarlok hid his initial annoyance well even as it prickled at his skin. forced smiles that appear genuine and teeth hiding barbed tongue has always been his forte and the imperial slips on the familiar guise of appearing as something else than what he really is without difficulty. he might be annoyed at her but he deigned her not to know it; and that masquerade was a ( potentially ) deadly dance he'd always been particularly skilled at.