If he wants a fight, well now he's got one, and he ain't seen me crazy yet. [Locked]

[technicallyiam]

In Grant Park, hidden in the shade of a group of trees, there's an angry hellhound. Missy's been spending her nights in her behemoth form, sleeping in the shade of the trees and picking off nighttime strollers when she can find them. She's actually in the process of chewing on the remains of one of those said strollers, her teeth and muzzle,

Comments

[ducttapewarrior]

Michael can think of much, much better plans than this one. The problem is that... most of them involve putting Sydney in more danger than he'd like. Correction: most of them involve putting Sydney in more danger than Bristow would like.

So there's this. With the wolf and the explosives and all.

It's hard to see a black wolf in the dark, but he assumes a hellhound will pick up on that more easily than a human would. And her scent... well, it wasn't hard to track. It's a bit distinctive. The blood helps too.

He lopes through the darkness toward her, hackles raised, bristling with teeth bared. As he draws close enough, a low growl rises from his throat. Let her think that whatever poor pedestrian she's eating was a friend of his or something.

[technicallyiam]

Missy looks up from her meal. Wolf. Werewolf, probably. Much smaller than she is, and for that reason she's completely unconcerned. And, hell, if he's looking for a meal or just looking for revenge, she could get rid of him easily, but that's only if he makes a nuisance of himself. Right now, she's comfortable.

She growls right back and bites down on her pedestrian with a satisfying crunch, giving him a real good show of her teeth. Yeah, just keep walking, tiny. Didn't your mother ever teach you to pick fights with someone your own size.

[ducttapewarrior]

Oh, fine, make it difficult for him. Michael almost sighs, but restrains that urge. Instead, he lets the growl slide up a little in pitch, and into a sharp bark. He lunges toward her, snapping at the air near her face. He'd really rather not get too close to her jaws, but he's hoping he might be just a little bit faster than a big, hulking hellhound.

Or maybe he'll be hellhound chow very shortly. He's hoping it doesn't go that way.

[technicallyiam]

Okay. Tiny has become an annoyance. Missy doesn't snap at him with her jaws, however, she rears back a paw and tries to swat at him, hoping to catch him in the side and send him sprawling, and if that doesn't work, she's getting up and prepared to make mincemeat out of his yappy little head.

Bastard disturbed her dinner. Of course he has to pay. Missy's a bit more tempermental than usual these days.