Haunted Wood I am a boy of authentic self esteem

Clay won, and it seemed Valour had accepted that. Good! He stared down at the pup curiously, yanking his head back at any nips aimed his way, however, he refused to budge utop his newly acquired soft-throne. He kept still, poised and cracked a smirk.

That was until Valour decided to open his big fat mouth and call him pretty. It took the ex-eastholian back, and Clay clamped his jaw shut and swiveled his ears back as he wrinkled his nose. 'Pretty?' Pretty was only for ladies. Ones that had clean fur and were graceful. That smelled nice and were nice. Ones he used to frequently see back home. It was odd that the boy would call him pretty. Did Clay look like a lady?

He didn't grace Valour with a verbal answer, instead, he batted softly and at the boy's forehead before sitting down. Right ontop of his friend. But gravity had other opinions and his weight slowly pulled him down to the side, off of Valour. "You couldn't change it if you tried!" He boasted, voice still soft. He turned his head for extra effect, his nose pointed away and up to the sky, eyes closed.