Bramblepoint Aren't you tired of being nice?

@Cheeto


Traveling through this forest had truly been a mistake.

It was nothing but thorns, sharp sticks and strange squishy berries that were left half eaten by woodland critters. To make matters worse, said refuse was quickly staining her pale paws an ugly shade of reddish purple.

A disgusted shiver went up Amalthea's spine as she flexed her toes, feeling the grit of some sort of seed caught between them. She needed to get out of this damned tangle of wood and slop, but that was proving harder than expected. It was like every corner only lead to a thicker wall of brambles, barring her in.

Finally, Amalthea found a relatively clear spot to sit and rest. And to stew.

Her rosy eyes widened at the sight of a deer path, one she knew in her heart that she had likely passed by a number of time.

And to rage, it seemed.

The pale lady leapt to her paws, fangs gnashing as she glared down the path that could have made the last hour much more bearable. She released a snarl and leapt at the nearest tree, sinking her teeth in several times in frustration before latching on and tugging at a piece of bark until it tore away.

Amalthea spat it out, yelling out a string of curses as she reared onto her hind legs and press her front paws to the tree, yelling up at the branches about how this was all so stupid and that she hoped the entire forest burned to the ground.