Redsand Canyon *This Thread Topic BLEEPED OUT For Your Safety*

thorn was unused to his prospective dinner turning around to sass him; rather stupidly he slowed, blinking in disbelief as a verbal barrage assaulted him. his spine rounded in a prickly rise of hackles, but he did not launch at the weasel -- not yet.

the strange object in her hands had earned most of his attention despite the sharp bite of the weasel's tongue; he shifted back as it clattered downwards -- and when it issued a series of noises he could only describe as unholy, he did indeed look like a cat -- for his back arched and his tail fluffed and a razorbacked ridge of hackles rose to their full volume down his spine.

he cut the weasel an insolent glare, feeling his heart beat -- he neither liked the noise, nor the shiny rock, nor the weasel, and had half a mind to leave before whatever it was hurt him. it seemed almost insectile with the noises it made, save its features were smooth like an odd stone. he recalled as a pup finding a praying mantis was not as fun a toy as it looked -- and more than once, had received the sharp sting of a spider's bite. wanting no such re-introduction to pain that had been inflicted in his childhood, he backed slowly away. "what is that, weasel?" he growled, ignoring both her insults and the accusation he had been the one to do it.

oh, if he was smarter he might have gone with it and lied -- but thorn had never been the cleverest eyjolfur.