DUST BOWL DANCE | p, for now

[FELIKS]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]Company had been swift, a fact that should've been expected and treated with a guarded view - alas, it was too late for him to think about acting defensive now. Emerald eyes flickered down towards the approaching canine, leaning his head down to get a better look at them. As his memory came back to him a thin tail began lashing, talons tapping against the bark one toe at a time whilst his glare seemingly intensified. If he recalled, the other had never shared his name when visiting strangers in their homes, a rude gesture that would've been ignored by Feliks had it been another walking in the mongrel's paw-steps. Snorting in faux amusement at the interrogation, the winged creature stood himself up. If Val had been the Pitt's overruling dictator, he was sure there would've been a revolution already, yet with a conversation with Stryker being nigh impossible, he figured that 'talking' with this thing would have to do.

Or would it? Unlike Val, Feliks didn't come to hostile lands to just talk for a bit, though no stranger to taunting enemies on their borders the gryphon wouldn't ever be foolish enough to approach foes for casual conversation (most of the time, at least). He began making his descent down the tree, strings of various curses being sprouted mentally as he struggled to find a grip on the humid trunk. Before he fell headfirst to his embarrassment, he leaped off, landing in a crouch with beak open as if he was baring teeth. Not a bad coverup for the sudden tweak he felt in his hind leg, he thought, standing and shrugging off the pain as best the veteran could do before pacing closer. "I have no intentions of agreeing with a cur," he rasped, failing to masquerade a wounding pride at being told off by such a horrid beast. "Though I do wonder what the other slavers will say when I tell them of an unfaithful mutt within their ranks. If you're telling the truth about having a 'friend', that is,".

A bluff Feliks had no problems admitting to, the lion-sized creature seemed to be watching for a reaction as he tried further closing the gap between Typhooner and Pittian. It wouldn't be so easy to attack, the male was hotheaded but certainly not stupid, it seemed that Feliks was just looking for an excuse to get physical. Perhaps the wrong phrase spoken, perhaps the shepherd dog would attack first, he wouldn't be fussy with the reasons so long as they didn't toy too much with his faint pulse of morality.