What resided inside the male's golden orbs was quite the opposite of guilt. Not when the fox had stopped trashing its legs while he held it down or when he had decided to take his life to save his own had a feeling or regret flowed through his veins. His kill and his crime had brought nothing but peace upon the bronzed Ostrega. He now had a home, a meal, and later a warm fox skin to keep his feet warm.
Not even the idea of using the legitimate owner's own carcass to adorn the den made him feel ashamed.
With his body towering over the dead critter, Ciervo allowed the tip of his tail to rise over his back. Though the land he stood in was not his, it was not Peregrine's either. He stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to either try his luck at stealing or to leave.
He swiped his pink tongue over his nose, as the man stated he didn't mean to be a threat. While he remained wary of his interest then, he allowed himself to relax, sending his curled tail into a slow wag to break the sudden tension. "Yeah, fox isn't my favorite dish either -- What are you interested in then?" he asked, setting his champagne eyes on the male's face.
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