Qeya River The gentle ones can't handle me, the rough ones despise me

"you know, i really am not sure," lestan chortled gaily. "again, miss amalia would be the one to ask. i do know they are not poisonous, so sniff away."
he himself sat down on his haunches, content to wash his paws in the cold rush. "a witch's teat, eh?" he laughed again, eyes dancing at her sardonic humour.