Blackfeather Woods i can be your bonnie, you can be my clyde

[table width=85%][tr][td]

Kali is not necessarily surprised when the sound of approaching footfalls interrupts the sounds of the forest letting the sandsnake know that she will not be alone for long; but wrapped up in her …admiration and joy of finding poison ivy she gives a start when the pallid woman appears to meld out from the shadows of the dark wood. Sea green eyes rest upon her for only a split second before they divert with respect. She blinks down to the poison ivy as the woman makes her inquiry. Interested in poisons is quite the understatement, Kali cannot help but think. She adores her poisons. She is a good fighter, certainly, but she finds the thrill and anticipation of watching her poisons do their work a much better high than the adrenaline brutality of a physical fight. Poisons allow her to admire her handiwork from afar. It is a much prettier death than a torn asunder carcass and less easily tracked. “I was a poisoner of my old pack,” Kali admits. She cannot explain what exactly draws her to it only that there is a draw and she is not inclined to fight it. “I figured I would have to re-learn the skill and identifying the flora like a inexperienced pup…,” She draws her tongue against her jowls once. “but I recognize poison ivy. It means I don’t have to start from nothing.” And that is a start she is happy to take. It is not ideal per say but she is in no position to complain.

[/td][/tr][/table]