will they tell your story? — story patrol

[FELIKS]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]Patrols were a painful necessity in the life of a pack animal. The male forced himself to go on them with the tale that he'd always find something interesting if he tried hard enough, with a dreamer's attitude it was common of him to wander off by himself or completely neglect fulfilling the initial purpose of strutting about, another excuse to treat his tasks trivially was appreciated as the hybrid approached. Like a horse, his fore talons kicked against the ground in agitation before he got too close, though the source of such bother was none other than Feliks himself. He was a scary guy with stories so vile he could turn a witch's cat white... was it worth relieving horrors of his life just to proclaim he was the best at telling tales? His gaze drifted, narrowing at the distance.

For something as evil and sugary as candy? It wasn't worth it - the Striker would do nothing more than toss it away to some trick-or-treating termites regardless of what type it was. With nothing better to do and the loneliness of a potential solo-walk edging him forwards once more, the male's tail slowly lashed, smirk appearing on a black beak. "Whoever manages to scare me will get a courtesy present. After I slap you of course,". A brave soul in most situations away from his fears, the feathered fiend figured an extra challenge could be nice. "Might share one of my own tales, age tends to bring the most dastardly of experiences... boo," he rumbled quietly.