Ouroboros Spine trouble come knockin'

masa huffs, eyes still narrowed, as if waiting for some trick, some hidden motive in ro’s kindness. but nothing comes. only that nervous voice, that hesitant tail swish, that… ridiculous smile.

masa. the name is given curtly, without embellishment. it is all he is. all he has ever been.

this man is foolish. but he is also brave.

masa does not say thank you. he does not acknowledge the way his heartbeat no longer pounds like war drums. instead, he lifts his chin, eyes flicking toward the torn cheek, the blood still staining pale fur.

you should clean that. a gruff suggestion, nothing more. then he is up upon paws, seeking to turn and leave. and then go! a snarl cut from teeth when his head glances back.