Altar of Twilight Dreams that almost feel real

Alya's eyes flashed with anger at the slight and perceived threat. She was not afraid of the male - especially not with Hydra and Lyra so near - but the ridge of fur along her spine stiffened at his harsh tones, and despite his 'taking back' the insidious words, Alya could not help but seethe with anger. She and her sisters had never been known for their forgiving natures.

His suggestion of a game failed to grasp her interest, nor distract her from the insult he'd paid her by speaking to her like a child. Briefly, she contemplated suggesting a different set of terms, and possibly trying to take him on as a sort of indentured servant, but a glance between her sisters gave her a quick dose of reality. No, they didn't want to keep this guy around. What good would it do?

This in mind, Alya spoke with all the poison she could muster - which was quite a lot. "Why would I want your dirty-ass leg anywhere near my mouth?" she asked coolly. "I suggest you start running if you really don't want to die." With a twich of her ear toward both her sisters, Alya lunged toward the creepy male. Hydra and Lyra were just behind her, quickly closing in. Hopefully, the male had taken her advice - because, despite her words, Alya was very interested in getting her jaws around whatever piece of him she could. And they weren't going to play by his rules.