Firefly Glen and i was born with a healthy appetite

Their shoulders collided together, the force of such knocking a grunt out of Altair as he held his ground against Antares. That trick used to knock him clean out of the way, but he had been learning bits and pieces over the last few weeks on how to defend himself. His mother had thought it pertinent and his father hadn’t advised against it, and Altair had been all the more eager to soak up whatever information his mother could impart to him. He pressed back against Antares as he mockingly droned on, pulling gently at the skin of his shoulder in a mock wrestle.

“Dad did,” he said, finding a mischievous grin lighting his features. “I pestered him until he took me down here. Wasn’t too difficult to do,” because honestly, it wasn’t difficult at all for Altair to pester anyone if he put his mind to it. Antares knocked into him again and his time, the hooded Ostrega teetered a bit. But it was momentum to bash himself right back into his much darker sibling, and he pushed his head against his rib cage to try and push him around with a growl.

“What are you doing? Stalking everyone like always?” An unseen sneer flitted by this time; he buried his face against the wintry coat he found next. Still smaller but perhaps not by much or for long, his head dipped to scoop beneath Antares. Bullying tactics, worrying at resolve that he knew would not wane so easily when all was in jest.