operation little birdie

Kove raised a nonexistent eyebrow at the little fox, all the while listening to her speak. It seemed as if his impression of all foxes had been incorrect. Perhaps there was an exception the the species, but that was something he would only eve admit to himself, within the comfort of his own cranium. While the vulpine held the possibility of being teased by others of her kind given her dietary choice, the same could be said for the wolf, but for different reasons. If any of his family members would see him walking so close to the narrow-muzzled mammal, especially any of the males, he would never hear the end of it. They would probably taunt and tease about him 'chatting with his meal', though each of them knew he'd never stoop so low as to eat a fox. They were quite the chase, there was no denying that, but he couldn't see the appeal when another wolf would eat them. The scent they carried alone was enough to make him lose his appetite entirely. “That is true,” he stated bluntly, drawing himself from his mind in order to focus on the present situation. “Remember that next time you see another of your kind trying to steal, and stop them.” The way he spoke of the task made it obvious he believed it to be something extremely easy, even for the young vixen. Whether she believed that to be the same or not, he did not know, and probably would not care, anyways. Most likely, he would write it off as nothing more than an excuse. An excuse to protect a thief.

The Inuit man gave a satisfied nod of his head when he heard the yelp leave the girl's mouth. He did not feel guilty, nor did he feel any remorse—not even when a coppery scent infiltrated his nostrils. He had not aimed to draw blood, in all honesty, but the fact that he had accidentally did not phase him in even the slightest. Marble was just a fox, and not worth his worries. “I would recommend never calling a wolf by anything other than their name in the future,” Kove stated, not bothering to give her even a glance. “Someone might try to do worse than just nip at your tail next time.” It wasn't his problem, he was sure of that, but a little warning wouldn't hurt anyone. Well, perhaps it would hurt someone who wished to eat her in the future, but he didn't count that in.

A glare was shot her way as she called him a bore, his expression making it obvious he didn't take too kindly to that. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her, or, rather, stare down at her. He concocted an idea quicker than it took a heart to beat, wondering if he would be able to frighten her. “For fun?” he repeated, though his tone made it clear he was asking a rhetorical version of her inquiry. “Well, we hunt down trespassers for fun. In my old pack, we actually had a wolf hunt, even. The poor fool had crossed into land that did not belong to her, and it cost her something no one ever wants to pay—her life.” Kove paused in order to keep the smirk from spreading across his maw, and instead lowered his head slightly. His copper gaze bore into her's, but no matter how much it wished to break through, he managed to keep his amusement from reaching them. “After we kill the trespassers, or anything, we tear out their hearts and play games of all sorts with it. Ever play with the heart of another animal before, little fox?” Never had he torn the life-giving organ from the chest of another wolf, but he felt she didn't need to know that.