Ankyra Sound we live through scars this time

Oi! Lusca sprung straight upwards (now fully conforming to her rabbit likeness), skin and bones nearly detaching from her pelage as alarm surged up her limbs. The wolf loomed up behind her, and Luc was too rapt in her task to take stock of her surroundings before setting about––she was not prepared for company, not this far away from the strand. It would have been a wise decision to ensure her solitude, given her recent transgressions against Saltwinter's superstar. 

She did her best to avoid scrutiny––the process of time had revealed to her, slowly, the clamant result of her indiscrimination with the opposite sex, and when it came to Lusca's curveballs, Caiaphas did not have a promising performance history in terms of stress management. 

The dialect to follow caused Lusca's ears to fold. As with Vlad, she found it difficult to understand the pronunciations of certain words. She gave Maude a strange, perplexed look, swinging her abdomen out of view. "Or something." Her eyes scoured the rainrot, nostrils flexing against the rind of the log. "Yew eat somefin' sour'?" 

Pregnancy certainly did no favors for her attitude.