Noir made some feeble argument, but she must have known how useless that was by now. Holding the toy in the air by a single, stuffed tentacle, her brother sneered at the toy and shook it a little, awaiting a pleasant ripping sound its innards to come piling out at any second. It did not, however, and Attila raised his nose to sniff at it--there was no bad scent on it, but he made a disgusted grimace and stuck out his tongue. "Damn, Noir, don't you ever wash this thing? It's gross."
His sneer returned shortly thereafter, widening only when her eyes began to well up and she reached out at him longingly. Attila simply pushed her hand aside, dangled the toy a little, then began tossing it up and the air and catching it. He skipped about as such, an occasional "Whoops!" gurgled when he purposely missed the octopus and it landed headfirst in the dirt.
"Come on, little sister, man up," he grinned, smacking the octopus roughly as if to remove the dust and dirt on it. "Don't you ever want to be as strong as your big brother Attila?"
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