Deepwood Weald Run; As Your Life Depends On It

The others maw boasts the most obvious signs of irritation as she gazes up to him. The ghostly male wears a frown that allows her to perceive all he’s thinking at this very moment and it doesn’t seem too settling to her. His interesting eyes are stuck on the path where she emerged, the growl that emits from the hollow of his throat makes her wonder if these negative emotions are due to her or the thing following; perhaps both.

She stands tall, a smirk laid on her face as she hops away as the man swiftly turns to head opposite of the large cat. Amita’s large, white-tipped ears face towards him like saucers as she listens to his intriguing voice. Breaking into a trot to keep up beside the other, her golden eyes peer up to him and an easy smile on her face. She settles back to her normal self now that she has a chance at surviving this beast that stalks them. 

“I agree.” She voices to him. “If you’re lucky it’ll still go for me due to my size. They aren’t stupid.” She points out nonchalantly trotting beside him, large tail high in an alert posture.

The she-wolf gallops–or more like sprints–up ahead of the white wolf. She elegantly jumps over rocks and fallen logs. A toothy smirk is what she give back to him when she turns her head to looks back at him. Amita still loves the thrill of a chase and can’t help but prance around a bit even though the seriousness of the situation is still dwindling on high. 

“I sure do love a chase.” Her scarlet voice sounds atop a rather large rock waiting for her new company to catch up. “How about you, white wolf?” She pauses for a moment, contemplating her next question. “What’s your name? Or is now not the best time?” She asks with a tilt of her head, a smile, and a twinkle in those devious canary eyes.