Lion Head Mesa [sc] [M] Diamonds Under my Eyes

Unlike some people? The wolf-dog echoed, a brow arching in amusement as he rolled onto his stomach.

Machiavelli's lips curved into a playful smirk, Hmm... Well, I suppose I could go for a bite, he mused, standing and giving his multi-colored coat a vigorous shake, the hues catching the light in a dazzling display.

Are you feeling lonely, Izaiah? he inquired, tilting his head in a gesture that was both sympathetic and teasing. During the Shmu ceremony? Machiavelli clicked his tongue, a soft, almost maternal sound of disapproval. Why that simply won't do.

With a decisive nod, he hopped off the rock, his movements as fluid and silent as a dove. He moved through the crowd with an almost supernatural ease, a serpent slipping seamlessly among the bodies. Machiavelli paused, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Izaiah was following, a beckoning look in his eyes.

Stay close, he murmured, the words a gentle command.