Gibs fought the urge to pounce on the children because there was something oddly familiar about another scent. He crouched low and fought to hold his growl back, grinning ear to ear in anticipation. At last he saw a figure moving closer, and the grow sprang from his throat at about the same time he lunged out of the tree. Smaller branches snapped and leaves flew from limbs as he thrust his furry body at the approaching figure. Who was it? Tall, confidant... he wondered if the would be afraid or kick his ass. Either would be fun.
His growl mixed with a chuckle as his body raced toward the one on the ground. He was grinning devilishly behind the mask, and while he had both big hands extended and opened wide, his claws were retracted, he had no intention of actually harming his target. He did love the free fall, the feel of the wind in his fur was delightful, and the idea that he would be rewarded with either screams or smacks made the fall all the more delightful. The anticipation of the reaction was, after all, half the fun.