The calico woman seemed to fidget a little, and Unatsi wondered if she was thinking about bolting or something similar; wouldn’t be the first time someone deemed him too weird to hang around with for long. She quickly stopped, though, and he guessed it was because Anatole had shown up and distracted her. He regarded the scout’s large, muscular form with a hint of perhaps jealousy before the girl answered his question.
A nervous chortle escaped the Tsulwisdanehi, mostly because she hadn’t been completely offended by his rude observation, and he nodded as she took a seat on the tree stump he’d neglected in favor of the soft ground. Other drummers had better posture when they weren’t hunched over on the ground, but he was lazy, and this was as good a place to sit as anywhere else. He let the tips of his claws tap against the taut skin before the scowling Anatole joined the little circle.
“Osda!” Unatsi remarked, and held the drum out to the sulking man. “
Word Count → 000
Una wishes he was sexy like 'tole. ;D
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