Ankyra Sound sheepskin

While being called boy might've triggered a younger Vigilante, these days he saw the mild insult for what it truly was: a sliver of insecurity. An aging wolf peering into the face of a would-be usurper. Something not lost on the male, and something that he instinctively wanted to take advantage of. Disregarding the male's posturing and flash of buttered teeth, the loner responded by taking a seat. He wasn't intimidated by the ghostly kraken—he was confident he could outpace any stiff-legged move the beast made for him—but he seemed ready for retaliation anyway; despite his newly prone position.

"Obviously you don't know me. Isn't that the point of this?" the menace sniffed; "and I've certainly given you reason, but if you were too abashed to give me the chance I asked for, then that was all you had to say." His tail curled at his feet, flicking thoughtfully as he watched the geriatric guard with great care. He waited to see if he would be chased off, as he assumed, or if the brute would see any worth in him at all and get to know him, as he thought was the point of this process.