Blackfeather Woods oh, shyness is a waste of time

it was not voodoo that sprung unbidden from the murkgloom, though it may well have been better -- instead of witchcraft, a black shade sprung suddenly into vision, propelled by long limbs which carried it spiderlike towards the "intruder".

drawing to a halt that sent her body tipped ahead and quivering, astara fastened her indigo gaze on the creature that lurked in front of her: big, burly, and brown. her ears fanned forward as she inquisitively sniffed at him, giving him about as much personal space as water does when it's splashed over something.