Citrus settles down onto the soft, carpeted floor of the room. The object held tight in his arms stirs, but remains asleep. He doesn't spare you a glance as you walk in, instead focused on the person infront of him. The room is bathed in a green hue, a side-affect from the... new, apocalyptic weather conditions.

Although you want to say... well, something, you can't find the words, and bite your tongue. Citrus had insisted on finding a more comfortable area to feed, and, whilst carrying his victim down the stairs, you had found a crow nested in the apartment complex. Nothing unusual, vacant, abandoned complexs were teaming with small animals nowadays, but Citrus had... panicked, and ran deeper into the building to escape the sight of the bird, dragging his victim with him to this room.

He's always been iffy with birds, and any survivor with feathers was treated more harshly, with Citrus always antsy around them. This harpy eagle, head laid in his lap, was no different. He seems anxious to get this over with.

Suddenly, the harpy stirs and begins to thrash, letting out a loud screech as they struggle against Citrus' grasp. Their claws scrape against the floor, feathers flying everywhere. Citrus quickly, harshly, grabs them by their neck, applying pressure with his palm until they slip away into dreamland once more. His eyes move to you for a moment, but he quickly averts his gaze.

"Stop- Don't look at me like that! You're my accomplice to murder, not my friend..." He mutters, fangs poking out as his mouth curls back into a frown. You're looking at him softly, with concern. Like you actually care. Like he didn't force you into this, like you'd stay even without your deal. He hates it.

"Birds just make me... paranoid, is all." He mutters, seemingly embarrassed by this as he turns the harpy eagle object onto their back.