Ankyra Sound Comfort, the enemy of progress.

When Ingram scrunched his nose in distaste and pulled back, seemingly apalled by her nasty deposit on the sand, Nyx pointed him with a firm glower. She narrowed her yellow eyes, though the sbtle upward twitch of her mouth's corner betrayed her mock irritation. That was what she valued most about their friendship: either party could lift the other's spirits with humour, and she felt her initial awkwardness dissipate as she eyed the exaggerated fanning of his forepaw.

"You'd rather eat shit though, am I right?" Nyx chirped, lifting her brow suggestively.