“Looks like Joshua had some factorin’ nerve bringing back a thief.”
Sho tilts his head to the side, his amber eyes wild as he cornered the smaller man. Of course, he had waited for him to have finished up his book signing. It was only polite, after all. Fangs bared, he leaned down, a guttural growl leaving his throat. Sho flexed his hands, the knuckles popping with an audible crunch and click.
“Have you never heard of something called “intellectual property,” yoctoid?” Sho hissed, bringing up his phone to the others’ face, containing a picture of Sho’s own sculpture with a tacky quote scrawled across the image in stock font hand writing.
“Or do I have to teach you Copyright 101 the hard way?”