A soft chuckle escaped his maw as he eagerly listened to Vanya's voice and watched her eyes move about. He blinked at her response and nodded in agreement. As much as Djinn loved the warmth, the beating heat was beginning to get to his old bones, especially after his walk. Quite, as not to make a sound as the red Dingo-Eater spoke, he began to amble back toward the direction of the den. He did this slowly, partly from his age, partly from his short travel, and partly so he could stay in the vicinity of Vanya's lovely voice. It was old and soft, but it was still music to his ears, and always would be.
“How did you manage to get so much stuck in your fur in such a little time span?”
Djinn paused as he turned and focused back to his mate. In the peripheral of his vision, Djinn caught sight of small twigs and leaves twisted in his coarse fur. He wasn't sure how those really got there. Perhaps the wind carried them to him, and had got caught in the movement of his fur, rustling with the wind. Most certainly the old dog didn't roll on the Earth, he had just been sitting, hunched up in his own thoughts really. Nonetheless, however they got there, his blue eyes shone bright with mirth.
“Perhaps it was the pride of lions. You know, those males are quite feisty about their females.”
The elder Dingo-Eater's voice was quite and seemingly serious, but the shine in his eyes and his uplifted lips betrayed any contemplative thought. Perhaps he was known to be cranky and grumpy around the pack, but when it came to his mate, his lovely Vanya, he always found himself stuck in his youth.
