The grotto was a place he knew well. He lived within some of the deeper, darker holes, ones that his black form hid well in. And now, he was awoken by the loud call that rang out and echoed in the walls. Dark navy eyes opened slowly, an angry glow growing within the depths. He was in no mood to deal with people making themselves at home within his area. Though, only back here was his, it still wasn’t okay with him. He growled low in his throat. The large black male moving to stand, his movements stilling as he went to shake off the rock dust and dirt that had clung to him in his slumber. He only hoped that those who had called this disastrous meeting would not be upset with his furor outburst, because quite honestly, he was in no mood for a fight, but less in the mood for these boys, to interrupt his slumber.

From the depths his black form moved, his golden chest was a soft beacon, not brighter than the white dip of his muzzle. A low growl bounced from his vocals as he saw the group gathering at the mouth of the grotto. He stopped about seven yards back, ignoring the peering eyes, just watching from his post in the background. He would keep an eye out, make sure nothing got out of hand because really, he didn’t want blood all over the place here. That brought the maniacs around and he was in no way going to deal with them.