Golden Glade papercut

His eyes coldly watched the creature flee, only to see the smash of a dark paw before even realizing another had come so close to him. His molten eyes shot upward, catching the mess of mouse remains on her paw and quirking a lip in mild distaste. He studied her – cloaked in a pelt of ebony, though streaks of ivory and rust wove its way through her fur.
 
He blinked as she questioned him – the question holding a certain lilt in its tone that he did not grasp yet before tilting his muzzle, his tongue smoothing across his inked lips as he waited her reaction to his presence at all. “Not anymore,” he shot back, lifting his brows up as he nodded toward the state of her paw. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen someone thunder smash a mouse like that, though.”