i sold your rope for a bucket of lemon peel, now suck it

leif was deposited upon the ground for no more than five minutes before rhythm's companionable chuff traveled to the set trap of his ears and, integrating into the gauzy landscape of semi-consciousness, invited him to the inevitability of socialization.

jimmying an eye open and using all of his intestinal fortitude to conquer the fatigue by which he was relentlessly plagued, leif tracked the smoke's sinuous movements as she made her approach on him – all while he was arranged in such a vulnerable (and embarrassing) position.

successfully yanked from the cusp of dreaminess, the stray began scuttling for both perpendicularity and his dignity. he extricated his legs from underneath him and put all extremities in the correct order, a stiffness smiting his muscles causing all manner of things to tweak and pop as he scooped himself up with the urgency of an incontinent pregnant woman touring niagra falls.

shrinking from the burglar of his drowse – and nearly hoping she hadn't caught sight of him – he left his seat and rounded the corner of a tree, hiding himself in the diffuse shadowing. still – the silver-phase female came up on him, but offered the cushion of distance, making him more comfortable with the situation and giving him less inclination to slip away.

the bright, playful message she issued made him slouch against the tree and stare icily ahead. he didn't answer her for several moments, in his head various scenarios in which the ground opened up beneath him and swallowed him entire. unfortunately... "no." he grouched, canting his ears unsurely. it was still too early for him to fully grasp the concept of humor.

cheek-ruffs turned to her and his lip jutted, he glanced at the pale she-wolf sidelong and guardedly muttered, "worms don't satisfy any of my nutritional requirements." with a self-defensive pout coloring his timbre, leif rolled his shoulders and cast his lantern gaze away from her once more.