Cinnamon rose up onto her hindlegs as the euoplocephalus waddled closer to examine her, eyes gliding over her feathers. Kielo’s eyes, which were obscured by the mask he wore, betrayed no emotion. However- each movement was slow, critical. As if preparing for the moment that Cinnamon would suddenly surge forward and barrel him over. However fighting had never been her strong suit, she would have to earn his approval in other ways…...