Hideaway Strath your kiss is the jackal among the tombs

Roarke’s left ear swivels out to the side and then lays back as he contemplates why she is calling him a bug; and whether or not he is meant to take offense to it or not. He thinks not because thus far she has spoken it with plenty of affection instead of infliction. “Whas a - a butterfry?” He knows bugs in a very general, very vague manner of understanding because well …they hold no interest for him. Their bodies are easily crushed under foot and he is not interested in something he can break without effort. Roarke likes the challenges and thus far his experience with insects has not brought him much of one; because of his question, however, he does not answer her own. Chusi is full of unexpected surprises, Roarke thinks, because unlike his parents that would have sectioned his share off she tells him to eat as much as he wants (because that’s what cool big sisters do)! His gaze lowers from her to her kill and he contemplates, thinking of what is polite. He takes a chunk of it in his mouth and places his paw upon the corpse as he rips it free before he takes his spoil of victory and trots a few feet away to where he drops to his stomach and begins to eat, his back turned to Chusi to guard his chunk of meat. He knows she isn’t going to steal it from him but primal instincts are so very hard to ignore and Roarke’s savage and dominance instincts are beginning to kick into overdrive.