I'm afraid of your disease

upon spying his shambling spectator, the sea urchin grew possessive of his ware, bristling and spinning about to block the raven from stealing off with his precious fin. truthfully, bartok had no interest in shoplifting rubberlike, useless merchandise.

but the defensiveness that kevlyn presented made him inclined to feign an attraction to his commodity. though he claimed he was up to nothing, bartok knew that was obviously a fib –– he could see him doing something with his very eyes!! feeling a bit like a gudgeon – a casualty of blatant deceit – the raven hopped sidewise, head bent and tilting at the gnashed fin kevlyn stashed beneath him. "mini dog is liar, liar, tail on fire." he grated, tsking and dithering nearer to the pup's peaked underbelly...

"scoot." the petulant child demanded before flopping his gut over the thing as though it were an efficient hiding place. well, it was inaccessible now, but it did little to slake the nuisance's dedication to harassment. "scoot." he mimicked him, voicebox flawlessly imitating the adolescent tonality of kevlyn's dialect. bartok squawked with amusement. "scoot!!!"