a wolf with an apple in one hand "are you what's fallen down?" he asks

So I'm still gonna do the character stuffs for WHIPLASH!, rest assured, but I just wanted to drop in to say that I haven't actually really started on writing such things. XD; If any of you have read that book, you know that there's a TON of character exercises in it. It's sort of a project to take on and I haven't had the time yet to sit down and go through it...

Anyway, I am working on The Ram again! Rejoice! So far, too, it's been fun and a half. Here's an excerpt because I love this sort of thing.

And then there was that niggling little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him too strongly of the Owl, telling him not to do that, that he'd regret it in the future.
The Ram selected a dagger and pulled it out of its leather sheath, examining it in the half-light. He caught the Rook looking at it, too, and smiled for the first time. He held it up by the blade between two fingers. “Like it?” he asked politely. As if they were discussing the weather or a fresh kill. The Rook snorted in response and dropped his scowl.
The dagger was suddenly buried in his eye.
The Rook screamed and flapped his wings in vain, arms struggling against his bindings, leaping to his feet and knocking over his chair in the process. The Ram watched him in amusement. He walked over and ignored the screeching, delicately pinning the Rook against the wall as if he weren't fighting with all his strength.
He pulled the knife out and wiped it on the Rook's leg. The Rook snarled something garbled and tried to turn against him, but the Ram kept him pinned with one hand. “You'll regret this!” he said hoarsely, chest heaving, wings still struggling in vain.
The Ram chuckled. “My dear Rook, I've regretted the day I met you for some time now.”
“Yeah, well—fuck you.”
“You'd like that, wouldn't you,” he replied thinly, letting the other go. The Rook sagged to the floor, wings immediately curling tightly around him. “If you want to play defensive, I could simply break through those precious little feathery twigs—” He hadn't finished the threat before the Rook was shielding his wings with his body, keeping them folded protectively behind him, glaring up at the Ram with his one good eye. The other was a mess of blood and flesh and who knew what else. The Ram couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it.

EDITEDITEDIT:

Apparently this is my 100th post! /joy and happiness abound