halving the compass

The breeze was nice in the shade, and was doing wonders to whisk away all the hot, humid air clinging to his pelt and skin. Tybalt inhaled deeply and sighed, allowing his eyes to slide closed if only to block out the unfamiliar world around him. (Gotta relax, man, you got this.) His sandy ears swivel back as a stellar jay passes by with a the distinctive che-che-teeks call as it wings around the tree and into the sky. He opens one eye and watches it until it vanishes behind another row of pines.

Shy speaks up again and he huffs only to roll away from her with a petulant grumble. "Alright, mom, I got it." He snips bitingly, immediately regretting it. The emotion passes over his face; anger, irritation, guilt, and sadness. He pushes one paw forward, and watches absently as the dirt piles up in little mountains in front of his digits. "Like I haven't told myself that a million times already..." He mutters softly.