--
Machidael is by me!
Raking his claws through his fur, Machidael attempted to straighten and fix himself to the best of his ability. He wore nothing today, for it was his whim and if the rust-hued jackal obeyed nothing else, it was his whim, arbitrary as they sometimes were. At least his hair was in relatively decent order: though only gray-brown rather than black, Machidael at least still found this color more pleasing than his natural copper, and he'd convinced himself it was, for the moment, better than true black.
So intent was he on his fixing and preening, the jackal did not hear the approach of another until a voice rang out behind him. There was a faint accent to it, and Machi did not realize its familiarity until he turned around and came face to face with -- Sepirah? he barked, a high-pitched jackal's noise. Well shit -- it's been a while, he said in Arabic, grinning fiercely and almost as if to display the golden tooth now occupying his canine. He licked his lips, gazing upon her with the sharp look of a predatory creature.
You grew up, dear sister, he remarked, leaning back against the rusting van with nary a care for the jagged edges and rusted streaks. There was appreciation in his gaze -- dry, undesirous, but nonetheless appreciation -- along with a hefty dose of wariness. There was a snake wrapped about her shoulders, and Machidael eyed it suspiciously, not wanting to get too close. He thought he recognized the breed, and its v-shaped head, in any case, told him plainly enough the venomous nature of the species.
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