Declan’s summoning howl struck the air at a rather inopportune moment.
When it came, Lotte’s teeth were buried deep in the scruff of a thieving fox who’d weaseled his way into one of Teaghlaigh’s caches — and his teeth were buried in her scruff. They were wily little beasts, foxes, and while she was willing to tolerate this one’s shyer brethren, taking food from her Family was an unforgivable offense. If she let go, he’d scramble away, free to steal another day — if he let go, she’d pin him with a broad paw and stop his burbling snarls by snapping his neck. On the other hand, if she yanked him free, he’d surely whip around and go for her face. He was free to do that now — but in the heat of the moment, he was more likely to simply hold on until he was startled into another attack. The howl nearly did it for him — Lotte felt the twitch of his musculature against her gums — but he held fast.
Banríon rumbled her displeasure, one small, triangular ear flickering in the direction of the howl, and considered her options. At last she gambled, dislodging the small blur of russet with a heavy shake of her head — but when he tried to curl in on himself and retaliate, she closed her eyes and whipped her head from side to side, disorienting them both. She recovered first, her jaws snapping vigorously once, twice, thrice; she missed the first two times, but her third attempt was a success. Alabaster fangs delivered the fatal blow with swift efficiency. She wanted the fox dead, but she didn’t want him to suffer unnecessarily.
Anyway, she had an appointment to keep.
With the fox’s body clutched tightly between her jaws, Lotte approached the borders. She set down her trophy with slow deliberation and drew herself up to face the two strangers without much care to her disheveled appearance. Blood spattered her black masked face and beaded upon the shallow scrapes that shone whitely across the bridge of her dark muzzle; she could feel its stickiness between her shoulder blades as well. Nevertheless, she felt exhilarated and powerful. “Rakeet, comrades,” she murmured cheerfully, clearing what blood she could from her muzzle with a careful sweep of her tongue. Her tail curled high and proud above her back. “I am sorry for my undignified state.” She wasn’t. Slyly, she turned her attention to Declan with mischief dancing wickedly in her moonbright eyes: “This is not your first time at Teaghlaigh’s borders,” she remarked mildly. “I know your scent. Tell me of your findings, and what you seek here.” She thought to test his skill, but was also genuinely curious about their intentions.
When it came, Lotte’s teeth were buried deep in the scruff of a thieving fox who’d weaseled his way into one of Teaghlaigh’s caches — and his teeth were buried in her scruff. They were wily little beasts, foxes, and while she was willing to tolerate this one’s shyer brethren, taking food from her Family was an unforgivable offense. If she let go, he’d scramble away, free to steal another day — if he let go, she’d pin him with a broad paw and stop his burbling snarls by snapping his neck. On the other hand, if she yanked him free, he’d surely whip around and go for her face. He was free to do that now — but in the heat of the moment, he was more likely to simply hold on until he was startled into another attack. The howl nearly did it for him — Lotte felt the twitch of his musculature against her gums — but he held fast.
Banríon rumbled her displeasure, one small, triangular ear flickering in the direction of the howl, and considered her options. At last she gambled, dislodging the small blur of russet with a heavy shake of her head — but when he tried to curl in on himself and retaliate, she closed her eyes and whipped her head from side to side, disorienting them both. She recovered first, her jaws snapping vigorously once, twice, thrice; she missed the first two times, but her third attempt was a success. Alabaster fangs delivered the fatal blow with swift efficiency. She wanted the fox dead, but she didn’t want him to suffer unnecessarily.
Anyway, she had an appointment to keep.
With the fox’s body clutched tightly between her jaws, Lotte approached the borders. She set down her trophy with slow deliberation and drew herself up to face the two strangers without much care to her disheveled appearance. Blood spattered her black masked face and beaded upon the shallow scrapes that shone whitely across the bridge of her dark muzzle; she could feel its stickiness between her shoulder blades as well. Nevertheless, she felt exhilarated and powerful. “Rakeet, comrades,” she murmured cheerfully, clearing what blood she could from her muzzle with a careful sweep of her tongue. Her tail curled high and proud above her back. “I am sorry for my undignified state.” She wasn’t. Slyly, she turned her attention to Declan with mischief dancing wickedly in her moonbright eyes: “This is not your first time at Teaghlaigh’s borders,” she remarked mildly. “I know your scent. Tell me of your findings, and what you seek here.” She thought to test his skill, but was also genuinely curious about their intentions.
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Messages In This Thread
i hear it beckoning - by Declan - March 04, 2017, 01:37 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Conan - March 05, 2017, 03:06 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Lotte - March 05, 2017, 05:01 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Declan - March 05, 2017, 05:31 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Conan - March 05, 2017, 08:23 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Lotte - March 05, 2017, 09:52 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Declan - March 06, 2017, 06:24 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Conan - March 08, 2017, 08:18 AM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Lotte - March 09, 2017, 10:27 AM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Declan - March 10, 2017, 03:51 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Conan - March 11, 2017, 09:39 AM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Lotte - March 17, 2017, 05:06 AM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Declan - March 18, 2017, 10:06 AM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by August - March 18, 2017, 12:14 PM
RE: i hear it beckoning - by Lotte - April 07, 2017, 07:20 AM