Bramblepoint godless and free

Vlad had not expected what happened next. The stranger addressed him in his mother tongue, earning a roar of approval from the yellow-eyed miscreant. "брат!" he yelled - the Russian word for brother. "I spit on your mother - my command of the foreign tongue is great!" The ugly words were said in a jovial tone. He moved forward, mostly unafraid now that it was established that they were already kin - with or without a deal and the fight that would naturally have to follow; the canine equivalent to a blood oath. "I take you veetout deal," he offered, speaking English again. "Much ugly bleck wolf say no to you, yes? I hear it." Rat moved in the background, oogling the exchange with a vacant look on his face.

Just then, a stray breeze brought a fourth, sweeter scent to the table. It was faint, barely there, but Vlad nevertheless raised his head and inhaled sharply. It smelled distinctly of lady. "You hev recent sex?" Vlad asked, not seeing a lady among them.