Starglow Basin ícaro

agh curse my pms for not working

Scarce had he heard the only language he knew since he'd been dragged from place to place. But hell, he was starting to learn the meanings of some of these words, the simplest ones, matched with bodies that blocked doorways and snarls that threatened consequence. 

Another approached; big and tall and covering him in shadow as he crept closer; something feline in the steps of this man, detached from the heavy step of the hound that had swallowed him up. 

He backed away, reflexively. Wobbled on three legs. ...Hello.. I'm sorry.. I'll go back in.. 

Mismatched eyes beheld less fear than they had before; call it adaptation, habituation, whatever phenomenon. Now they only expected a response, sat in wait for a rough shove or the pierce of teeth into whatever part of him hadn't gotten it yet. Hawkish and tracking.