#dontdosomethingstupid

“You can have the squirrel. I’m                              not really hungry.”

Duck absolutely can’t stand the taste of carrots. For some reason he just hates them. The first time he ever had carrots with a meal at dinner time, he spit them out and later got sick, to which Katjaa claimed that he was being picky and overreacting.

      " I'm cold. " What a rare statement. Arvo could handle weather, but it was just getting worse honestly. Shaking slightly, he leaned closer to his friend.

He'd been struggling in the cold, coughing. The snow wasn't so bad any more, yet it made it hard to see through his glasses as it clung to the frames. The Russian couldn't remember when he had passed out. He just knew he woke up on his back. He was covered in an unfamiliar coat, throat parched, wheezing softly. It took him a while to remember who was supposed to be there, "Mike?" His voice cracked, rolling onto his side to cough. He realized he wasn't wearing his brace, but he supposed that was for the best. It was kind of hard to carry someone properly if their brace was biting down on your arm. Shivering, eyes squinting without his glasses, he saw the dark skinned man by a fire, doing something. Cooking maybe, "Mike-- что случилось... Где мы?" Sometimes he just couldn't manage English, he should probably teach Mike some Russian if he was going to keep lapsing so much. Later though, when he wasn't feeling so hot.

Buricko. Respects... and fears to an extent.

     Arvo glanced around suspiciously, fingers twitching around his pistol. Usually round blue eyes narrowed into cat-like slivers, pulse thrumming in his neck. Caution showed in his every movement, not even bothering to bend at the knee, afraid his brace would creak and alert the man searching through his safe house. He lifted his gun slowly, just as the other man turned around.       Yet Arvo kept firm, watching the man with reasonable suspicion, " Привет friend... " The man had been digging through his canned goods. Rolling his neck, the Russian gave a small, passive smile. Though his eyes still screamed ready to kill, " I am so sorry to say, but everything in this house is mine. I am going to have to ask for you to... hand over your weapon... " There was only one he could see, " And give me a reason not to shoot you. "

It starts to make me think had he nearly lost someone before due to a bite and tried using this unconfirmed technique on it? But where is that person now? There had to be SOME way he knew it would work. I would have never even considered it.

*grips your face* More threads mayyybbeeee