Grimoire watched his waning interest in her attempt to teach him. Well… He was a recipe for disaster. The thought caused her fur to tingle and mind filled with charming tinkling bells. He was a keeper. She eyes drifted into half slits at his blunt statement, “You talk to much;” it was immovable and he would not accept otherwise. His logic was severely flawed, as teaching required for the student to understand the lesson, but that was why the world was dysfunctional. And she was far to lazy to correct it; he was set in his dysfunction, and she would be curious to see the pain he would endure because of it. In the future, she would observe his path.

She met his eyes and allowed him the opportunity to gaze into her pearlescent one. Nakki, her mother, told her there was truth in the eyes - truth of character. She watched the black serration of blue in his eyes. Blue was the color of truth and confidence. Black was the color of power and mystery. And odd combination, but she felt it was fitting. It was too bad such conversations would go over this boys head or otherwise she might has felt intimate and decided to allow him some adult pleasure.

As it was, his intelligence was geared only towards things he knew, not towards things to learn. At his question, “What do you want?” Her eyes sharpened into skeptical slits; he didn’t really care did he? From her observations of him, he would assign to her what he desired. And soon after, he offered to hunt with her. Grimoire’s ivory canines slid out in a devious grin and when his eyes darted away, she struck forwards with her teeth poised to clamp over his muzzle. She would attempt to push his head down into the muck beneath them if she got a hold. She wanted to push him over an edge. If he was savage, she wanted him entirely savage. If he was civil, she wanted to be listened to. What side would he decide to fully present?