Ankyra Sound I ain't ever had a type, having a type takes two

Uh, what a fucking weirdo. She might not have thought too much of it if he merely said he wanted to know her, because honestly who doesn't, but pairing it with his second statement made it came off as implacably strange. As his ears fell back, hers tilted uncertainly to the sides. She made no effort to hide the confusion from her expression as she asked, uh, what?

Dipping her head was enough to reveal the furry little tuft protruding from his lips, but that was the best look she got before he swung his muzzle down to swipe it against his legs. That sucks, she said, pulling back with a dismissive whisk of her tail. But no thank you to picking that out of your teeth, I prefer my dinners fresh caught and free of plaque, thanks. Try rubbing it on a tree, she suggested, gesturing with a vague sweep of her muzzle to any of the large redwoods around them. I hear it works wonders.

For getting splinters in your nose, perhaps, but watching him try in vain would be a comedy worth sticking around for.