Vesper landed and sidled away from him, her ear still flat and her tail puffed out behind her. She took a seat and lowered her head to lick at a scratch, her light blue eyes staring intently up at the scarred youth. She was pleased to see that he was a little worse off, though her arrogance was draining. She hadn’t thought he’d be that good; he must’ve been trained by someone, and his scars could very well tell of a number of battles similar to she’d seen as an unruly youth.
The boy began to lift his arm then decided against it for some reason, plopping down. After a moment he smiled at her, and she smirked back, rolling a shoulder. “You did better than I thought you would, punk,” she admitted, the last word carrying a rare tinge of pride normally reserved for her young scouts back in Inferni.
There was something else that bothered her, though, that she’d noticed throughout their meeting and the fight and that was obvious in his silence now. The mangled remnants of her bad ear twitched, and she looked at him with a frown. “Do you talk?” she asked after a moment of hesitation.
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