Vaati did not roam far following his meeting with Damien, knowing he would be called upon soon. And yet, doubt seeped its way into his thoughts the longer he waited around, unsure exactly how legitimate his uncle's promises had truly been. It was easy to trust blood, yet easier to be fooled by it.. and Vaati had become a highly suspicious man. In the meantime, he pulled himself up and beyond the mountain range, pausing to sniff the air once for the scents of packs in the distance. None of which he recognized, but he made a mental note not to stick around for too long just to err on the side of caution.

But as he lept from the last boulder unto the grassy surface below, a sickening crunch filled the air and he felt an odd, wet substance beneath and between his front paws. "What the..." Below him laid a rather flattened, hairy lump that he recognized as a.. hare? squirrel? vole? He wasn't quite educated on smaller game (though it was in fact an oddly small rabbit) and its species wasn't something he really cared about. Vaati let out a disgruntled sigh, lifting his paw to inspect the bloody mess before wiping it away vigorously on the clean grass beside him. Turns out that only made it worse, as he misstepped and sloshed his giant paw in the guts once more, effectively trampling the thing to bits in a failed attempt to get it off. The man now stood - frustrated - in mouldy, bloody, dead rabbit remains before a meadow full of flowers, unable to find the humour in it all for his own morbid sense of humour did not apply to when bad things happened to himself.

The pair of eyes watching him remains silent, and he almost doesn’t notice her as she steps out from behind her hiding spot within the tall grass. Almost. His hackles raise as the air shifts to give her away, snapping his attention forth with a growing snarl on his lips… and then he finds himself halting the growing action in his throat before it has the chance to become audible. It’s a kid that stands curiously before him, and he quickly looks around to find sight of her parents before he is yet again accused of stealing someone’s child. But when no such guardian is to be found, Vaati’s gaze returns to her’s, fully leveling the rather embarrassing situation in his head. He narrows his eyes at her. “Didn’t your parents ever tell you its rude to stare?” She reminds him of his sister; the way their eyes bore into his without a shred of hesitation nor fear. He is intimidating to look at and has been run from before by those much older. But this little girl much like Maegi, remains steadfast in her curious glare and it almost renders him impressed.

She shakes her head no.

Vaati snorts, “Some parents you have,” Granted, he had not had the staple parenting situation either as a child, and good lord he had turned out terribly - but he is sure that should he ever have offspring of his own, he would do better than what was done for him. Perhaps Kjalarr’s abandonment would assure that Vaati would not run out on his own young, should he ever procreate. Yet, that possibility was a distance off into the future, and an arched brow observed the girl right back as she settled boldly on her haunches. “I don’t suppose you could put yourself to good use and help me clean this off instead of simply watching.” He lifts up his paw and the carcass goes with it, stuck to the hairs of his paw where he can’t reach to pull it off. Perhaps this would test just how bold she was, and he watches her carefully with a daring gaze.

With a familiar temperamental courage, she snaps at him on account of his apparent mistaken assumptions of her guardian and he is taken aback for a mere second. Either kids these days were getting too big for their boots, or the girl standing affrontly before him was simply an anomaly in her age group. Maegi was very much similar in temperament, though Vaati had always eluded her particular boldness towards him to the fact that she knew he could never hurt her. This one knew nothing of him, and the fact that she did not feel threatened by his cautionary appeal both concerned him and piqued his interest. Exactly whose kid was this?  He brushes off her small threat, looking at her with a dry gaze before offering a slow snort - as if he found it amusing. “Or you’ll hurt me?” The question is hypothetical and doesn’t beg an answer, but he is curious as to what makes others tick and what buttons he can push to do so. It’s a habit. In reality, Vaati is used to being run from and was now minorly peeved that he had held no such effect (not even in the slightest) on her, even though her help was required. With the dead bits still attached and flopping about with each footfall, he follows her towards the water. “Where do you come from?” The inquiry comes with only a mild tone of interest, but she obviously belonged to someone regardless of that said someone not being anywhere in sight.

Her cold, disapproving glare is not missed by him and he offers a slightly arched brow in return, intrigued by the guts she had to test him. No sooner later does the girl return with an answer to his inquiry, however, he leaves the topic hanging as he dips his feet in the running current and removes the remaining bits of the mauled carcass from in between his toes. "And who is your father?" Vaati does not turn his gaze to visually assess the response, instead, chooses to lay and manually nip away the spare bits of rabbit hair and assorted debris from under his claws. Perhaps he knew the man who fathered this insolent little girl. "Is he as impertinent as you?" While aimed as a jest, his tone betrays intent and borders on disrespect; a slight and daring sneer on his tongue.