this guns for hire

[Jefferson Soul]

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wc264 His eyes thinned. Jefferson was quite the sarcastic himself, but the language and manner of this grey-hued hybrid was something even he could not appreciate. The male's green eye thinned at the target suspiciously, lowering his head as if to look further into the character's soul; the scrawny-looking stranger looked nothing like the matriarch he [kind of] knew, but he was only peering with one eye and a busied memory. His mind had been spiraling about his own family as of late after some things had been unexpectedly opened to him, but what he could appreciate most is that there was no way, no how he could have been related to a precocious steel-furred runt like this one. His scowl deepened and voice grew all the more grim, but did not yet resort to growls and snarls. "Yeah," he grunted in response, flexing onyx talons into the soil. "You must have good reason for wandering this far into claimed land. Meeting someone? Hope it wasn't me, since I have no clue who the hell you are." A couple gimpy steps brought him a bit closer before he stood tall on his good three legs, tail curling at end. Recalling Iskata's story and the familiarity of the scent he carried, he was still trying to determine if this hybrid was the mate she lost and still pined for, or one of her children that had met a couple different traumas. Judging by the attitude, Jefferson could assume either pretty easily. "If you're here to meet someone, you should have stayed at the borders. Show some respect."

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