Ravensblood Forest the one minute. the soldier's minute

The smoke-and-shadow rogue felt electric — it was something she couldn’t explain despite her love for words and their nuances. Every sense seemed tuned to a finer pitch, their frequencies all set on one station: Arturo. The echo of his rumbling growl continued to replay itself within her mind, repeating and repeating, the vibration it engendered blossoming out through her athletic musculature and manifesting itself in the vigorous lashing of her tail and impatient quiver in her paws. It was like and unlike being on the battlefield or engaging in a particularly dangerous mission. She felt alive — and when the Ceannasach stalked toward her with his ears trained attentively on her every movement, a devilish grin curving his mouth, she jumped involuntarily. The skipping of her heart glided into a rabbit’s breakneck pace, and though there was a fluttering centered in her gut that would not quiet, she set it at the back of her mind and gave herself over to the game.

Mindful of the need to remain close to Teaghlaigh while selfishly desiring to keep Arturo’s attention completely to herself, Lotte wheeled and began weaving her way through the treeline at the edge of the territory. Broad, surefooted paws put on speed that seemed to contradict her zaftig appearance; Lotte didn’t look particularly aerodynamic, but she was as fast as a whip.