Ouroboros Spine trouble come knockin'

nobody sent him.

he’s lying.

he presses harder. yellow eyes of malice pouring over the pale man in hot, beady waves. he would have the truth or he would kill him, here, and now. it is his duty.

his sacred duty to protect these lands. masa’s past cannot come here to haunt these people. he will not allow it.

you lie. he spits. he snaps teeth. he swaps hand crushing windpipe for jaws upon his cheek, shaking violently, drawing blood. a warning bite. nothing more than a prick of a blade to fingertip; yet, this man does not fight back.

he only whines and cries.

masa recoils then. in shock, in disbelief. it only makes him angrier but he spits blood and gray fur out and backpedals from the collapsed rogue. do you seek to deceive me?! he demands in hiss. you think me a fool? fight me! he roars.