Hideaway Strath old gods still prowl among the thickets

the sound of a stranger’s voice was all that was heard by the elusive wildcat. his lightless yellow gaze peered through the brambles in search of his follower, and when he caught sight of the figure, he was capable of confirming that it was no one he knew. the brute was dark in coloration, but his eyes glimmered with a poison green toxicity. it mattered very little that tusk was alone; he was more than capable even as just one wild beast. his lean-limbed figure was taught with muscle and his mind ticked with the knowledge of how to use it to his advantage. there had not been a beast who had bested him yet, but that was because he picked his battles carefully.
 
the voice sounded once more, and the wildcat drew his ears forward to catch them. the dark figure claimed that he was not a hostile creature. this was either perfectly reasonable or entirely peculiar; the razorback could not decide. he thought that this was precisely something that a hostile individual would say in order to get their target to emerge from a hiding place. so, opting to keep himself safe and ahead of this oddity of a game, the cur emerged from behind his dark bramble bush with his head low and the jagged quills of fur standing along his neck and shoulders.
 
“but, what if i am?”