Duskfire Glacier nature, nurture, heaven, and home

He's a grumpyface.

Sitiyok stands, unwavering, even when her teeth unsheathe from behind her inky lips, and she aims a warning snap at his face. He merely pulls back and levels her with the same piercing look. He can't see through her, not unlike the others he'd met thus far, and the fact she speaks in the same language as that his father reserves for the Issumatar gives him great reason to believe she is far more than what appears on the surface. Hulking, strong, and bold; that much he can understand, but the need to dig deeper dares him to take another step toward her. 

He wrinkles the skin on his muzzle in a sneer, "No, not yet." He growled flatly; maybe soon, he meant. "They have failed to teach you manners, then." Though he slung the insult, it almost pained him to do so. The odd magnetism she presented prevented him from barreling her over and forcing her away from his hovel, but it couldn't quite temper his foul moods. A beat, an ear twitch, and a sigh. He yielded as best as the sooty male could: by breaking eye contact, and looking towards the mess that was to be his sleeping area, though he could not understand what demanded him to submit to her. 

The scent in the air was one of many things that fogged his mind.