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The fox turned an ear and cast a sidelong glance to the dark male when he spoke, understanding that he was speaking but not the tongue in which he did so. Since his words were scarcely more than noise, Pingasut was quick to return his attention to the bone.

He continued to lick and gnaw at the rib, but as Sitamat moved to approach he stiffened. He fixed his brother with an unblinking stare, but other than the onset of tension in his muscles, there was nothing to indicate that a protective, possessive instinct was rising in the fox. His soft fur was smooth, he made not a sound, and he did not pull back his lips to display his teeth. Sitamat grasped the opposite end of the bone, pinning it as he started to chew. The fox did not move, but nor did his gaze, and his teeth had clamped tightly on his end. He just stared.