Lion Head Mesa glory & garbling

The man's stare was hard as he listened, expression growing darker with every grim reveal. If revenge is still your desire, a shell snapped in two, you can count on my assistance.

Drawing a paw to his neck, he lifted a swath of the soft curls to reveal similar scarring—some new, some old. We match now, a smile, sharp enough to be called a grin alit Machiavelli's features. I dare say, however, that it suits you far better.