Qeya River a dollar for your future... a dollar for your fate.

everything about wren's countenance would indicate the complete and utter absence of fear, and rather the distinct manner of annoyance. 'he' opened a door alright. sounds like somethin' crawled right up your ass, she heckles. and don't fuckin' look at my kid like that, you polka-dot twat. come back here again and i'll feed your heart to my wife.
she watches the speckled heiffer scurry off into the brush, not willing to peel her eyes away until she was surely gone. she'd have to send @Ksura and @Senka on extra patrols for a bit, then, she decides; no stone would be left unturned with a lunatic crawling around their turf.
she bends down to kiss her son between his ears, but before she can do so, he toddles away from her and — hikes a leg. it was certainly a sight that dispelled the tension which hung in the air. look at you, protecting ma, she reaches out to teasingly ruffle the fluff of his shoulder with a swipe of her paw. you should become a guardian when you grow up, sparrow.