Mo Yan stared at her.
Then he stared at Qing Lin.
Then he looked back at Xin Yi, his yellow eyes narrowing to slits so thin they were more or less nonexistent.
"The cat?" he repeated, his voice dropping several octaves lower. It sounded like gravel being dragged across a metal sheet. "You want to return to the cat?"
"YES!" Xin Yi squeaked, trying to inch backward. But Xiao Long was still clinging to her leg like a barnacle, and Qing Lin had somehow materialized directly behind her, effectively trapping her between a rock, a hard place, and a very clingy seven-year-old snake.
Mo Yan's scowl deepened. He crossed his massive arms over his bare chest, the muscles rippling. "And why, little female, would you prefer a cat over a serpent?"
"Because the cat doesn't talk about TAMING me like I'm a wild horse!" Xin Yi shot back, her fear rapidly converting into indignation. "And he brings me meat! Good meat! Without the threatening undertones!
[DING! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ]
