[hr][center][color=808B96][color=A56062][h2][b]M a x[/b][/h2][/color]Southeastern Mir [b]-[/b] The Fall[/color][/center]
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Max pushed his tongue against his upper leftmost canine, mouth slightly open as he saw the Lotori girl turn around right and mock him as she asked him a question. The red-furred Spicati wasn’t exactly known for his manners, but even to him, that sort of action was rather impolite. It reminded him of when a particular feline would do similar things to patronize his sense of direction or luck or [i]skill[/i]. Fortunately, right as he was about to give her a piece of his mind in his uncandid way, she glared back at him as she tried to help out the boy that had come running out of the woods. Max wrinkled his nose; the boy smelled like a mixture of dogshit and urine and looked like he was worse off than his [i]plane.[/i] Why was this little girl blaming her for the way this child was, anyway? He wasn’t his responsibility!

Still damp wet, he approached the two to get a better look. He was no medic, but the shit-smelling stranger was still a child at the end of it.

[color=A56062]“You can act like you're not a right out cunt, yeh? Not my fault this fuckin’ let smells and looks like he came out a skank's asshole.”[/color] He crossed his arms, looking over the kid. [color=A56062]“Fuck you lot doin’ out in this mess, anyhow? Fuckin’ Fall is for ferals and fuckheads, not little girls and lets.”[/color]