Shrike's ears flicked forward. Well, if he wanted to play it that way....Did the mutt take him as a fool? Did he truly think he was that stupid? He stared pointedly at the yearling as his lips pulled back to reveal his canines, sharp and dripping with saliva. They either did this his way or they didn't do it at all. He would sooner steal the fawn for himself than allow such an affront. Or he could do one worse and startle the fawn, ensure that he went hungry for yet another day...
Both options were tempting.
He watched and waited, tossing both ideas back and forth in his mind. If they did kill the fawn he supposed he could use it as a bartering tool, but on the other paw Shrike just wanted to see the boy squirm. Decisions, decisions.
Sinking down to the ground, Shirke took shelter beside a worn, fallen log. Being black he didn't blend in too well either, but he'd positioned himself that he could only been seen from a certain angle. That the fawn would try to rush by him, only to get grabbed once it got too close. He would play along for now, he decided, but if the fucker tried to wriggle his way out of it-well, Shrike was a convincing man, when need be. If not, he supposed the other's might enjoy a new chew toy. They were never far, just a howl away.
Shrike was as ready as he was ever going to be. Was the loner ready yet? What was taking him so damn long?
All members of the Carrion Crew are welcome to join Shrike's threads at any time.