"My old friend," Thornfoot whined, before an uneasy smirk curled against his lips, displaying his darkened teeth.
"Gods! You stink," Kraven said, crinkling his nose and turning away.
"Forgive me," he pleaded. But then there was a glint in his obsidian eyes. "I've tried something new these days. Hygiene."
"It's either that or hygiene's running faster than you can reach it." Kraven yanked the dagger embedded in his hand, and a pained growl tore from Thornfoot's lips.
Kraven seized him by the hair, revulsion curling through his spine at the texture of his uncombed hair for winters. However, his fury was far more extreme, erasing the need to pull away.
Kraven hauled him away from the wall, drawing his form like he weighed nothing, and slammed him against the table, shattering the wood upon impact as splinters flew around.
