there will be teeth in the grass

[Laurel Booth]

Yep, that's a word. Feel free to date this whenever, I don't keep strict timelines or anything like that.
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He knew that he probably should have felt intimidated by such a feral display, but in reality Laurel wasn't even sure what to think of it. Just as much as he didn't know what to think of the words that spilled from her pretty (but snarling) mouth, though for some reason now he could possibly grasp a better understanding of the strange things Asphyxia had said to him. He had even been called a lot of things over the last five years of his life but never a spy, which was ultimately just as annoying as a passing mosquito buzzing in his ear. She thought he was from Inferni; maybe that was supposed to be expected. He was a coyote after all and as it had been pointed out to him before, coyotes apparently were all supposed to live in some place called Inferni, which he hadn't the faintest clue where it was.



Behind his pursed lips, he ran his tongue against his teeth idly, withholding a truly smart answer. He could have apologised for not being what she wanted him to be, but didn't want to cast the first stone that sent her over the edge. “They wouldn't miss me because they don't know me,” he said in the same tone as before, putting enough trust in her that she wouldn't be as foul as to strike him first. If she did, it was surely be a cold day in hell before she got to lay another hand on him but whether it was because he fought back or ran away was up in the air. “I think you have me mistaken for someone else, anyway. Don't you think if I were to ‘spy’ on your pack, I'd sit a little closer? Maybe another ten miles up the shoreline?” Though he had good eyesight, it wasn't that good, especially when he wasn't getting any younger on top of it.

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