Stone Circle turn off your porcelain face

Before he knew it the weight of the white male collided with him, and with it he tumbled down like a wet rag. The earth under him was ice, permeating through his fur and into his bones. He shuddered at the feeling, letting it seep more into his body... or maybe it was the pain blooming at the side of his neck where Siarut had latched onto.

Regardless he did nothing, only wincing and letting out a shuddering breath at the bite before turning his head to the sound of another—high pitched and feminine. "Val...ette?" he groaned in question, looking up with a squinting gaze. Had his plans gone to shit? Was she not going to kill him? He feverishly rushed his forepaw upwards to wipe at his olive eyes, smearing away the dirt and mud to give way to his face. "How did you know it was me?"