COME SLITHER, COME SLITHER + MEETING

[THEM]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]It's hard, these days, for him to decide what exactly he feels in regards to Snarl. She was in the wrong. He'd watched every second, felt the tension ripple through the air, took the hit before Snarl had a chance to receive consequence for her actions. Why? To all others, it was a compulsive act - it was stupid of him, to defend someone who put herself in danger just for fun. She probably would've said the same, had they the opportunity to talk after the fact. But he'd kept his distance, since that evening, loitering uneasily in town while the wound in his neck healed and the singed fur began to grow back in. A few, pearly bitemarks lining his jugular would remind him of his sacrifice for years to come. Snarl probably wouldn't even last that long, not at this rate.

Yeah, stupid felt right. Leroy's reaction was fair. Snarl deserved punishment. He wasn't sure, then, why he felt a prickle of indignant anger at the decision - was it because Vathmos deserved the same, and received none of it? Because he wasn't being given a choice but to sit back, to listen like he hadn't been there at all? Kazuhira flashes a look in Snarl's direction, tries to catch her eye; the anger was a palpable, heavy thing that radiated from her firm gaze. He turns back towards Leroy, adding, "...I'd like to stay behind and listen. I was involved, too." He reflexively rubs a paw against the fresh scars on his throat. They still ached.