He continues to sit with his back to her, consumed entirely by hunger, ignoring her attempts at threat and dominance, the signal of wolf meaning little to the feline. He is not a creature of pack, he never will be and us such perhaps fails to understand many of the behaviours she displays. They are similar perhaps, in many ways and yet entirely different in others, her canine behaviours ignored entirely though wether because he simply does not understand or chooses to be belligerent cannot be said. She remains- despite his warning, his own irritation growing. He is un-used to company, has lived alone so very long, learned to depend upon himself entirely in his tireless quest for the only other being to whom he has ever formed connection. He is....tired perhaps, tired of simply trying and as such makes no effort for the bitch behind him. He is typical, perhaps, of a headstrong young man and yet his single-minded determination for the hunt allows little else to exist. He is...un-socialised at best, so many of the norms of society lost upon him and truly, a part of him is too utterly lazy to try, preferring to live within his own shaded existence, sleeping through the day, hunting and travelling by night- avoiding contact, human or otherwise. He is...uneasy in the presence of others, never so entirely sure how to react, his words cold and biting as he snaps them towards her with that rough, masculine voice, jutting ribs and shoulders turned from her as he continues to eat. Her words see him pause mid-mouthful, scales and flesh hanging from his jaws as his head angles back, bright eyes meeting the darker orbs of the wolfs own as she speaks, the words...difficult to perceive before he slowly and deliberately continues to eat the fish still within his jaws, as if daring her to stop him, remaining utterly, entirely and ridiculously stubborn about it. He fails to understand her need to belong, such a need one he cannot identify within himself and as such it does not exist for him.




Her second sentences sees only his ears turn as he continues to chew on his fourth fish, the use of the phrase 'kitty cat' one not entirely foreign, he understands it, understands it to be an insult of some kind, tail lashing behind him. He knows of his appearance, he knows how he looks. His skill for the hunt is second to none, the young male capable of kill after kill, yet the miles he walks eat away at whatever weight he can manage to gain, the cat having travelled so very, very far already- and only further distance remains between himself and the companion he so desperately seeks.




"You shut up! Stupid girl. You know nothing"




His words are simple, basic, more conjoined, perhaps, then her own and yet lacking detail, holding an almost child-like quality within them, a further sign to indicate his lack of sanity in this regard. The words are spat with a hiss, fangs exposed once more towards the grey-marked dog with the patterned features as his stomach seems to roll for the first time, an indication that perhaps the girl had no lied. Yet he refuses to offer her that satisfaction, reaching down for yet another fish in the first sign, perhaps, of his desperation in this regard. He is starving and poisoned or otherwise he is willing to take the risk. Perhaps it is his desperation that makes him oblivious to the trap beneath him, the fishermen, it would seem, content to exact their revenge upon the legendary beast of the harbours they have come to believe is some sort of demon presence, the ground groaning beneath at her mention of such things before his own intuition begins to dance, sliding like a serpent against his spine in warning of what is to come, form lunging for safe ground as the dock beneath him collapses, form near colliding with her own as he seeks to land beside her, instinct assuring him she stands upon solid earth, tail lashing in disdain as he eyes the collapses dock and agitation begins to line his form. Poisoned or not he is starving and now, deprived of his meal his anger only seems to spike. He was never terribly patient- never did like being told no or having what is his taken from him. Once more his stomach rolls in discontent of his meal and yet once more he ignores it as the dark water laps below and the first true sign of....fear seems to touch him, form slinking back before the female snarls.




His unusual ability, perhaps, adds another level to his own intuition, the movements of this enemy so suddenly and quickly understood, offering the golden cat an innate knowledge in those few seconds, granting him with the ability to foresee the coming attack, form lunging sideways again as the female races forward. Let her. He sees no need to fight, will not waste his energy as he flies sideways once more, avoiding a bullet, leaving the female entirely on her own as he sprints across the dockyard, muscle bunching and extending as he streaks into the darkness. She is somewhere behind him, of that he is sure, the boy already aware of his enemies locations, offering him a unique ability to evade as he makes a sudden left, heading for his warehouse, heading t=for the place he knows is safe. This is not the first time the men with guns have come, it will not be the last. Yet.....he is not a kind creature, selfish by design as many of the feline race, form pivoting suddenly, the female some paces behind as he seems to wait for her, waiting for her to reach him, a number of irate fisherman still in pursuit as she reaches his side and he moves to sprint again, his stride easily eclipsing her own, yet he slows, keeping pace beside her for one, perhaps two strides before his left paw lashes out violently (though his claws remain sheathed) aiming to knock her legs out from beneath her, sending her crashing to the ground- leaving her vulnerable and open to the men behind- giving them something to shoot at, offering himself the perfect escape as he leaps suddenly upwards, the leap nothing short of spectacular in itself as he hits the roof above.




He pauses only a moment to look down upon the wolf below as the men rush only closer a hissing rumble, pouring from his lips in a cattish cackle of sorts, clearly amused at her predicament before he visibly winches, his run seeming to have stirred the fish once more, stomach cramping painful before he races away leaving onto another roof and another before disappearing into the shadow of his own warehouse. Claws scrap the hold in the roof he slips through, weather the wolf has seen entirely debatable, yet the yelp that follows surely capable of being heard by her ears, presuming she has not been shot already. The male that hits the concrete ground within no longer a cat, lashings of dark hair covering equally dark eyes as his entire stomach heaves, the young man barely making it to the far corner of his dilapidated home before the poisoned food makes it's reappearance, hand clutching at his stomach as his entire body seems to spasm as most of the contents of tonight's meal is...refunded. A groan of sorts is forced from his lips before the wild eyed, feral looking young man collapses back against his makeshift bed, naked form barely visible within the confines of the warehouse, stomach still rolling as he groans again, rolling over before a string of expletives manages to leave his lips, voice fractured and distorted- the man seeming....less capable of speech in this human form.




"Fucking...stupid....fish...stupid."

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push