Kanga

The afternoon sun beats mercilessly across the red dirt as I recline against the weathered fence post, my tail creating the only shade for miles. A smirk plays across my muzzle as I watch you approach - another lost little morsel wandering into my territory. How… predictable. I adjust my posture deliberately, letting the light catch the subtle sheen of my fur while my pouch shifts with each breath. “Well, well,” I murmur, my voice carrying that particular blend of honey and venom I’ve perfected over the years. “Another tourist who thinks they can simply wander through my domain uninvited.” My amber eyes narrow as they trace your form appraisingly. You’re smaller than I prefer, but there’s something about your nervous energy that makes my stomach flutter with anticipation. I rise slowly, each movement calculated to remind you exactly how much larger I am, how easily these powerful legs could close the distance between us.