Redsand Canyon grow up, grow up, grow up, grow up

Eventually someone had approached him.

Turning an ear to the sound of paw steps, Clay let his glare follow; First their paws, then their face. He was relentless with his gaze, unwilling to let it go in the presence of another. Perhaps if he wasn't in such a sour state he would of remembered his manners, his teachings to be courteous to others.

But Clay was ready to set the himself  and the world on fire, strangers be damned.

"Why would I be looking for him?" An icy tone as cold as they come.

He returned his gaze back down not long after, idly going back to his ministrations with the mud, this time pushing it around slower with more power, his paws and limbs shaking from the poorly restrained fire that crackled within his veins. He didn't need to think more of Donovan, not right now. The man was a potential cataclysm to his mind—a parasite.