fuckin' hell mate

He had fucked off at some point, slipping away from "civilization" in order to figure out where the fuck he was. It was strange and almost frightening that he had simply gone in a massive circle, ending up right where he'd started with nothing to show for it. Jorg had assumed the lands to be the afterlife, yes, but now he knew the extent of the current realm and loathed how boxed in he felt. Surely death would have given him something more to work with other than this shit? Maybe only the pure fuckers got unlimited lands and shitty ones got shitty territories, much like himself. Either way, he was quite ready to punch a puppy in the face to alleviate some of the tension knitting his shoulders together. There were other options, yes, but Jorg preferred the most fucked up one.

He wasn't a good man in life, so why bother in death?

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He didn't know what the fuck was happening, but all of a sudden some tiny chick was all flustered and yelling at him in some poetic ass bullshit way that screamed pretentious. Jorg's brows knitted together in a confused amusement at her bizarrely spoken words, to which he promptly replied: "Hva?" His tail wagged slowly, uncertainly, as his ears twitched and flattened gently against his head. "Jeg forstår deg ikke," the wolf mumbled. Did he know he was trespassing? Of course he did. Did he care? No. Was he going to play innocent to get out of it? Of course he was.

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Jorg would have barked out a laugh had he cared enough to, but to be quite honest, he had more important things to do than deal with tiny women and their flaming cunts. She was bitter and he shrugged, turned tail and left without much more of an argument.

Dumb bitch.

EXIT

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