Hideaway Strath You call but I just cut the line

The fighting stopped. Pity.

She wonders what made them stop, but soon realizes their attention turns toward her. Ah. She was the reason it seemed. She watches them silently as they whisper to one another, what they say she does not know, nor does she care. She almost readies to leave until the darker and bigger child comes to her. War’s ears perk forward, and she looks down at the child who makes a meaningless display.

”Who!?” The demand is noticed.

It does not please her.

She growls a warning, a statement rather. She does not like to be bossed around by a child or have demands made by a child either. The growl is low and without the show of teeth and she leans down to the child to look him in the eyes. Her grey eyes show him nothing, but then with a sudden and rather fast movement for someone so big she pushes her nose forward to push him down and into the ground.

”Who?” She demands back, she declares and she does not apologize for probably tilting him over. If he falls to the ground, she will use her front paw to keep him there, hold him in place. Teaching the child a valuable lesson of real life. War wasn’t playing nice, but she was gentle still, more gentle than usual at least. She knew better than to harm a child, and she did not wish to do so. But she wanted him to know that throwing demands left and right would not get him nothing.

Every spoiled child had to be taught a lesson, and this was his. War was chaos after all.