crawl from the fire into the pan, what we don't need, hell will demand

the songbird watched unimpressed as the wolf pulled around the tree's heartgirth, smearing along the coarse bark copious amount of ecru-tinged fur. she found his unbelievably dis-coordinate pelt to be a sign of incivility -- and her silent judgement passed clearly across her reproving features.

his riposte smacked her in the goading manner of a physical fist -- how rude! starling had never had anyone call to mind her nose and its wayward intentions, and she visibly fluffed like an offended gander at his remark. she raced for a comeback, desparate to pull the wily wolf down to his suitable place as a pauper. "maybe i would if i couldn't smell you a week out." she turned her slender muzzle to the brilliant sky in a gesture of highbrowed disdain. "you reek." take that - PFTTT.