#wickedonesgrin

Letting out a little yowl of surprise, Örjan slowly slid down the tent, ripping holes into the side with tiny claws and no doubt alerting whoever was inside. Oops.

“Strange things?” Roderich looked about them, as if said strange things might have already gathered nearby. “Are they... anything to be worried about?”

“How about you not touch my stuff and I won’t have to put a foot in your ass.”

Even if he’d only been at the circus for maybe a week, Örjan was already having fun messing with the other performers. Currently, he was running off with a cloak, laughing in his head as he heard him yelling. But unfortunately for the tiger cub, running with a long cloak in your mouth when you are so small is difficult. Within a few steps, he ended up tripping on the cloth, tumbling to a stop as his legs got tangled up.

Hoping he hadn’t kept Alistair waiting for too long, he quickly made his way to the main tent, pushing back the large flap that served as a doorway and stepping inside. “I apologize for the wait, I couldn’t seem to find the damn things at first.”

“Coming!” he yelled, and bounced off in the direction of Alistair.

“Oh we’re going to go there, Lamb chop. Also maybe you should watch your fucking language, there’s children running around for crying out loud!”