Can't keep my hands to myself.

[Lysander]

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ooc-ness             Lysander scoffed at the girl, her own attempts to be snide. In time surely she would perfect the art of rude boarder patrol, which was a common method in trying to wean out the weaklings that came to one’s pack. For now though, she was too soft, too young. Life would, hopefully (Lysander hoped at least), beat that out of her. Normally pups were his favorite, but this one wasn’t exactly a child. She was too grown up, but not grown up enough to be an object desire yet. Basically he had no use for the girl not yet adult but not really child either. Once she had been hardened and brutalized by the injustices of life, perhaps he would give her another call.       “Oh fine, fine. I get the hint. I’m leaving.” Lysander smiled gingerly at the girl before he turned tail, his heavy paws carrying him quickly away. Judging by the daylight, he had spent more time with her than he had intended and though he still hadn’t found Conor or Emwe he would have to put off his search for another day, the joy had been sucked from his adventure. Waiting at home for him was a nice full bottle of brandy, which after being promptly consumed a nap would take place. Far more entertaining than anything Dahlia de Mai had to offer him.

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