The noise of protest is really closer to an indignant squawk than any particularly human sound, but that's what happens when you've spent the better part of the past few centuries as a bird. Arms are harder to work than wings, too many joints and things to articulate, but he pushes at the shaggy beast and pulls perpetually skinned knees towards his chest, keeping his legs as tightly closed and as close to himself as possible to prevent a repeat.
"And you smell. Smell and smell with too much hair but it's all wet and cold. Snow men always are."
He glances up and over at the blonde, eyes flicking from one to the other. "Called Horus. Come from the sky. Lived in the sand. Live somewhere else now."
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5/12/13 19:48 (UTC)"And you smell. Smell and smell with too much hair but it's all wet and cold. Snow men always are."
He glances up and over at the blonde, eyes flicking from one to the other. "Called Horus. Come from the sky. Lived in the sand. Live somewhere else now."