{I'm so sorry about the late reply to this wolymum ;;}
Hannibal was always aware of his surroundings, or rather, as much as possible for any cat. He never let a moment go by where he was unsure if there was a cat approaching, a cat looking at him, silence, he
always made sure that he knew what was going on. It wasn't because he was scared of being attack, in fact, the tom was literally incapable of feeling fear, but it's simply because he was no idiot. You
had to be aware of your surroundings, it was just plain survival. So when he heard pawsteps relatively close by, his orange-red gaze flickered up to focus on Percival who was now looking at him. While he had never met the hairless tom, he could tell by his scent and.. Weak looking demeanor, he was very likely a healer. The tip of his tail flicked lightly as he moved his gaze back to what he was doing. The strokes of his tongue precise and at a constant pace, flattening and smoothing his chest fur, a small, dull sheen of light giving it a small shine.
The scent of blood must have brought him. He thinks I have an injury.
As the healer approached, the dark tom didn't bother bringing his gaze up to look at him, only when Percival say something did Hannibal stop what he was doing and look up, deciding to put on a happy, pleasant demeanor even though he truly felt nothing internally. He was starting to do this more, practice these emotions on others, see what they would do.
"
No.. No, I am fine. The blood is from a messy hunt, the poor thing kept trying to escape every time I went in for the kill and so I had to continue to inflict wounds until it couldn't escape anymore. Messy, but the Syndicate must be fed." There was a small pause.
"
Thank you though, I appreciate the concern. I don't believe I know your name, you might be..?" Names were always a good place to start when it came to collecting information. @
woly