Sawtooth Spire Why So Serious

One of Tonravik's brood made its way towards her in a matter of moments.

Echelon, though seemingly oblivious to the others that had come out to join them, appeared to have the worst case of tunnel vision going on. Her attention was firmly rooted in the one that approached her, interested in the noises that he made with every step. And then it dawned on her — oh, growling.

Well, he was so small that there wasn't much his growling would do to her at this point. If anything, his attempts were awful though a kinder individual would have thought them to be moderately cute. How adult, they'd say! This little boy wants to grow up. Instead, she snorted indifferently towards him. He thought he was tough, all right then.

What she did not expect was for that little spawn of Satan to approach her all the way, invade that personal bubble of hers, and nip at her ankles. At first she merely tolerated the touch of milk teeth against her skinny legs. But by the second and third times, her tolerance ran out and left her with a response that only she would possibly be brave enough to pull off: Echelon snatched him and hoisted him into the air.

Take that, little shit. Her being radiated a sense of pride in snatching him, though she did not do so roughly. Just enough to hold him, subdue him, and perhaps give him something to be leery about. He just wasn't going to scare her away, not today or ever.