Alvah’s blind gaze on Peter never wavers.
Marwan clears his throat. “Now, Alvah. This is not conduct becoming of a prince. Perhaps you would like to take this off Academy grounds?” He clears his throat, grip tightening on each perch.
Alvah’s fused mouth contorts as he flings Peter a few feet away.
Peter tumbles heels-over-head, rolling side-over-side to a stop, and puts a hand to his throat with another chuckle. “Is that all you have?” He chokes out another chuckle, getting on his knees.
Alvah jerks in Peter’s direction, flaring his claws at his side, and charges.
Marwan puts a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes, and shakes his head. “Tonto burro.” Keeping his eyes closed, he huffs, whispering. “Yo iuro ell autem quod el muerte de yo.” Huffing one more time, he clasps his hand in
