I spent days planning it.

I knew Olaf wasn’t that bright-- he always tried to get me to bicker on like an untrained brute.

And he annoyed me to some extent, but I ignored him. Quietly, efficiently, I ignored his annoying habits.

And quietly, efficiently, I planned.

Finally, I was ready. That day, Olaf began his usual attempt at provoking a violent response out of me. But, unlike my usual, I was ready for him this time.

I slowly coaxed my bone forward, pushing it towards Olaf’s circle, made by the length of his chain attached to the center.

I could feel him watching me, watching my every move, feeling suspicious and maybe even greedily licking his chops. Either way, he had to have noticed.

I knew he noticed. I planned it that way.

Taking my time, the bone reached close to the edge of my circle, right on the edge of Olaf’s circle. He padded forward to it as I sat back, and I watched him.

He struggled to snatch the bone, stretching forward as much as he could, his eyes practically bulging out at it. Olaf’s nails clicked on the ground, shaking up and down. It was too much for him, but I knew he was too determined to forget about it.

I knew him. And he was exactly as I knew him.

I looked at him one last time before turning around. I laughed a silent laugh: “He he he,” and I walked away.

Just like I planned.