Broken Antler Fen i got, i got, i got loyalty, got royalty inside my dna

*shoves kafa in here, whistling innocently*

It was not as if Kafka was surreptitiously following Juú; in fact it had been some time since he’d last seen her. It is mere coincidence that he stumbles across her path now, here, in the Teekon Wilds. Sheer, impossible coincidence and yet …coincidence all the same. As he crosses into the scent trail she leaves in her wake — foreign in some ways but still familiar at it’s core — he is hesitant to believe that it is true. For truly, what are the odds of them finding themselves in the same setting without previously agreeing to it? Thus, he follows the scent trail silver-white eyes taking in the forest as it parts, yawning wide like a mouth agape. He gives pause, his steps faltering as words spoken in a snarl come upon a voice that is as unmistakable as her scent. So, he thinks, it is true. She is here. And by the sound of her footfalls she has given chase to, presumably, whatever she had been speaking to; and Kafka is presented two choices in that moment: wait until she has caught whatever it was she was promising the demise of, or he could shrug out of the thick foliage like a shadow wraith and ruin her hunt. Mischief sparked to life like a flicker of a flame in his silvery-white irises and he emerges from the foliage with a beguiling smirk ghosting at the edges of his lips. The machiavellian prowls from the shadows that cling to him, as an insistent and greedy lover, and lets out a low, gravelly, bark of a laugh. “Didn’t mother ever teach you not to threaten your food, Juú?” He teases in an soft, affectionate snarl. “It's rude.” Kafka clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in mock chastisement.