"How do you know? This place was pretty damn peaceful before you came traipsing along," the Plebeian said with a sneer. "'Course I assumed you'd stick to your precious Silver Creek lands. Guess not." Why couldn't Leviathan go? Did they have to bicker like this? It was just throwing gasoline onto the fire.

"A den with my big, loud family," Arsenio bluntly answered his question. Of course, he didn't expect the family of Mars and Lasair to be very noisy at all. "And whose concern as that? Technically, I'm not an adult yet. Give me a week or so." Ha. His birthday was before Levi's wasn't it? In your face!

He kept his fierce gold gaze, burning, fixated on one looming cypress tree as Leviathan started on his reel. The further and further the Creek pup got along in it, the more and more Arsenio just wanted to go over there and kill him. This reminded him of his run-in with Chitrr-Rikrikk, when he had ridiculed Arsenio to where he ran away. Now, the old fight or flight thought had reversed. Arsenio wasn't the fleeing type. He was more of a fighting type.

So, when Leviathan finally finished, Arsenio snapped.

He burst forward with more speed he imagined he had in him, hurtling toward Levi like a bullet shot from a gun. He bowled into the other puppy, throwing the both of them to the ground. "Take it back! TAKE IT ALL BACK," he was screaming in the process, cutting off his screech as he crashed into the other pup. The two rolled once over the mossy floor before landing with a small splash into a pool of shallow, dirty swamp water.

He was pushed from his foe, shoved into a deeper patch of water. Spluttering and struggling to stand, he eventually did so. Staring at Leviathan's eyes, so much like his own, with undershadowed hatred, nothing but pure loathe poured from his pores as he looked at the one person in the world that he hated the most. Off-color swamp water dripped from his soaked fur, making him look even more ragged than he was originally.

"I love it," Arsenio hissed through his teeth, starting to circle Levi as he did so as well, "How the much 'bigger and stronger' Leviathan is using his words as his weapons. Compensating your bite with your bark?" He sneered. "I made the first move, Creeker. Your turn. Do your worst."

So, the warrior-healer began to grow a bit of cunning to match his blind strength that was stemming from adrenaline and sheer force of all that had been on his shoulders, channeled into one stream. He could almost feel a cold smile creeping up his lips, like a trickle of icy water dripping down your spine. This was nearing a close, but he'd have the last bit of fun.

He started forward toward the Creeker pup, first slowly and then growing in speed. The water slowed him down, but he jogged through it quite masterfully for one of the Mountain (he spent much time at the Sparkling Springs) and then, when he had almost reached Leviathan, he swooped down. His strongest paw — his right forepaw — dug deep into the sludge below and, with a strong motion, flung it up into the other pup's face. "Nice talking to you again, Levi," the Plebeian hissed, turning tail and then starting to walk away back in the direction of the Mountain. His gait was slightly askew, a stinging wound shooting him with pain from his left hind leg.

He had a smile on his face. In a cold way, it was worth it.