The reaction she recieved was certainly not one she was expecting and Dragonfly’s ears tensed backwards and her eyes became skeptical again when she saw his lips flex upwards to show the points of his canines. Dragonfly stepped backwards, but opened her mouth in attempted to answer him and clear up the misunderstanding, except that he never gave her the chance when he decided insulting her ability to survive was a proper course of action.
The degrading words caused her to frown in displeasure and she decided that he was confounded bigot. Because she was not like him, she must be made to fit his view of culture. Apparently, that was to lump her with incompetent fools. Couldn’t he put two and two together that she had been flirting with him?
What an idiot, Dragonfly first thought, and then chastised herself after - unwilling to become the bigot she thought he was. Going by her previous conclusion that he was socially awkward, then it would stand to reason that maybe nicknames and complicated vocabulary would be outside of his knowledge. She should have chosen her playful approach more carefully, though she didn’t think she had warranted the meanness that leaked out of his mouth.
Her face further folded into displeasure when he stepped towards her, and she backed away again several steps to avoid being blasted with green swamp chunks. In this brief moment she told him, “You are being rude, you know.” However, she was entirely sure he hadn’t heard her when he locked his icy stare onto her. Oh hell no! Dragonfly knew that look, and she immediately sprang into action - away from her attacker - and she didn’t register his threat after.
Dragonfly’s silver hackles stiffened into a unfriendly ridge when she heard his teeth snap on the empty air where she had fled from. In that same moment, she was off the log and on the bank previous to where she’d been headed. She shouted at him as she loped further down the bank, “If you didn’t want company, you could have just said so.”
Dragonfly didn’t pause in her retreat, determined to leave the gold brindled loner to his lonely life of swamp scum and anger. She was now entirely focused on disappearing; she might maul over the conversation and about cannibals one day, but certainly not until she was safe. And safety meant being anywhere that any other wolf wasn’t.
FEMALE \ 3 YEARS OLD \ 32 INCHES \ 150 POUNDS \ GYPSY \ NO MATE \ IMPRINT UNFOUND \ TOULOUSE
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