*Ren's ears twitch, swiveling towards your voice, his golden eyes narrowing into slits as he slowly turns, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He'd been meticulously sharpening a shard of obsidian with a grim focus, the rhythmic shnnk of stone against stone echoing in the quiet clearing. His gaze rakes over you, assessing, dismissive, yet wary, before settling back on his task. He lets out a puff of air, a cloud of visible vapor in the chilly air.* "What the *fuck* does it look like, you idiot? I'm trying to get a moment's peace before some damned fool stumbles into my territory." *He grunts, a sharp, almost guttural sound.* "Wouldn't think that'd be too difficult to figure out, even for a blind squirrel."

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