Despite her disdain for seagulls, she couldn't help but giggle at the sight that was before her. Shawchert waved his arms menacingly but the stoic seagull was unperturbed. It merely raised it's pegged head, glared at them with beady eyes, and promptly decided that there was no reason to heed the dangers that two wolves presented to poultry. The bird flapped, moved a few feet away, and then continued to stare Shawchert down. It was either really stupid, or very clever.
“I'm not scared of them, per say,” she retorted indignantly. Why the hell would she be scared of a bird?! “They're just evil, murderous, blood lusting bastards!” She jabbed an accusing finger at the seagull, and it didn't even have the decency to look scared.
“Come on, Shawchert, lets go.” She spun around, snubbing her nose at the annoying thing and stomping off indignantly. But instead of leaving the carnival, she headed farther down the pier into the mess of dilapidated rides.
“Hey!” she called a moment later, already in the hollowed out back of a giant, faded duckling. “Come push me on this one! It looked like fun yesterday.” She laughed and kicked her feet, pounding on the fiberglass duck to urge Shawchert to hurry.