Lion Head Mesa No remorse for the helpless one

It took little time for a striking blonde Mazoi to find Stormchaser at the borders of the mesa. He was confident in his approach, chuffing in a deep voice to announce himself. As though that was necessary. The yearling would have seen this man anyway. He had not happened upon many who carried such a pale, sunlit coat. It would have looked nice on the floor of his den.

When the brute spoke, it was to deliver a blandly obvious statement.

Stormchaser feigned surprise, looking around swiftly before he snickered and shrugged his lean shoulders.

I might’ve walked right in… he spoke caustically.