Haunted Wood Trails of Fire

As always; it doesn't take long for him to be discovered within the hell, and through a half lidded gaze and hazy brain drifting in and out of consciousness, the young prince can smell Valour close—his scent thick, woody and comfortable.

A smile graces Clay's face, and with a slight wag of his tail he immediately leans into the large wall of muscles that graces his side. Warm. He nearly coo's at it, unaware of the unbridled rage flowing through his companion. Perhaps if he was more lucid he wouldn't dare show such affection. But crashing after adrenaline, the easthollian is more high than anything.

"Oh, Valour," he sighs, acting surprised as he slumps down more towards the ground, nearly laying at the agouti's feet. He is far too tired to continue walking. After all—he found his prize, he doesn't need to keep trying.

That is... until another presence makes itself known.

With the smile faded from his face in favor for a death glare, the boy stares at the ground ahead. Unable to find much strength to lift his head. All he sees is the paws of the stranger, large and imposing, connected to thick legs corded with muscle. Clay wrinkles his nose at their voice thats riddled with an accent he doesn't know. It's their tone that dissatisfied him, and the insinuation that leaks from their words.

"Try anything and i'll soak the earth with your balls," he threatens while trying to meet their gaze. Tho given how tired and ragged he is, the threat probably isnt all that believable to the boogeyman.