[imgleft]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png [/imgleft]With a sudden scurry, the mouse tried to escape.

Dragonheart was ready and waiting, snatching it back up, ever so gently, teeth barely gripping the small creature. He deposited it back between his hooves, where it sat, breathing heavily, heart working overtime.

“It’s been,” he glanced skyward, judging the position of the sun, “half a day now, little one. Aren’t you meant to grow fond of me?” His head dipped closer and the mouse sunk even lower to the ground, eyes wide and full of terror.

“I met a kin, you see, with many a little mouse friend - and I thought, yes that would be nice to have. A little companion of my own. But how does one befriend such a small and, don’t take this personally, stupid creature.”

He sighed heavily.

“If I planned to eat you, I would have done it already. And yet,” his voice shifted, from companionable to annoyed hiss in an instant, “you continue to run away, one pathetic attempt after the other. I am getting bored of your games, little friend.”

[imgleft]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgleft]


"It can't understand you," a voice might have come behind him, "it's just a dumb animal."

Constant Heart stood there, perhaps having watched for some time. The look on her face was not quite dispassionate, but it could not be described as concerned.

His head whipped up and around, golden eyes narrowing menacingly on a doe who didn’t know how to mind her own business. His tail flicked in warning.

A variety of responses ran through his mind. He discarded ‘how long have you been there?’ and an unnecessary explanation about the doe with the two mice, settling instead on a very hostile, “I don’t remember asking you for your opinion.”

It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to be caught talking to a rodent, though it was certainly an unflattering scenario - no, he was irritated that not only had he not noticed the spy but that she might have heard his longing for companionship.

That anyone could ever have even the slightest inkling that he was lonely enough to try befriend a mouse filled him with rage.

@Jun

Her shoulders might have lifted a little. It was hard to say. She shifted a hoof, and kicked a berry over.

It was the only one around. She must have brought it.

"Try bribery."

@Ruriska

Dragonheart looked at the berry and then at her. He frowned.

“I wouldn’t sink so low as bribery,” he hissed at her but after a moment of tense silence, he picked up the mouse and deposited it closer to the berry.

“But my new friend might be hungry, so we accept your offer.”

The ‘new friend’ sat in its new place, completely still except for the rapid breathing. It did not eat the berry.

Dragonheart was very displeased.

@Jun

The look on her face - whatever it was, not quite dispassionate, neither concerned - did not exactly shift, but she did, again, from one hoof to the next.

"Hm," she said.

So helpfully.

@Ruriska

He waited but still the mouse did nothing.

“It isn’t eating,” Dragonheart hissed, glowering at the doe as if it was all her fault.

@Jun

"Hm," she said again.

Finally, she came over to the little tableau. Crouching by the mouse, she nudged the berry experimentally with a hoof.

@Ruriska

Dragonheart didn't really want her to approach either him or his new friend but he allowed it, magnanimously; if only to see if she had more advice to offer.

...

She did not. 

And the mouse, now towered over by two kin of dubious intent, had gone suspiciously still. Even the rapid breathing had stopped. Perhaps, he thought hopefully, it was finally learning to trust him. He nudged it with his nose, expecting an endearing little paw to touch him back to cement their bond.

The mouse didn't move.

Or do anything.

In fact, it seemed -

Oh.

His lips pulled back in a silent snarl.

@Jun

This was very, very awkward.

If it had been possible for her expression to show that she would really rather be anywhere but here without actually changing, it would.

"I would say maybe try a foxbun or a rabbit instead," she said, "but the same thing would probably happen."

@Ruriska

He wanted to rage.

But her expression was so full of nothing that he couldn’t bring himself to stomp and roar as he desired. Dragonheart didn’t want to be the only one making a scene.

So he simmered instead, fire in his belly.

“This is your fault,” he accused.

@Jun

"Probably not," she said, almost absently, peering at the body, "if it had died after eating the berry, maybe."

She leant down farther, picked the berry up between her teeth, bit down, and chewed.

For the first time, her expression moved - just a little, to that slight bit thoughtful.

Then she swallowed.

"No," she said, "it's clean. Prey animals can be like that."

@Ruriska

He refused to listen to her denial of guilt.

“You owe me,” he told her, an angry glint in his eyes.

What exactly did she owe him? A new mouse? A different companion? It didn’t really matter. The fact was that she had cheated him out of a friendship, destroyed his hopes for happiness, and now she had to pay for it.

“How do you plan to make amends?”

@Jun

Oh, look, her expression moved again. This time to something possibly very much like pity, but no one could prove anything.

"I don't," she said.

@Ruriska

"But you will," he promised her.

Not that he was threatening violence. He wouldn't waste his energy on any such nonsense. It was his brother's style to throw his weight around. Not Dragonheart's.

He smiled, a nasty little smirk. He'd had an idea.

He dipped his head, tenderly gathering the mouse up.

Waste not, want not.

Crunch, crunch, swallow.

Farewell little friend.

"It seems," he said with a heavy sigh, "I am in need of a new companion."

@Jun