Blackfeather Woods Carrion, comfort me.

you can decide if she hits or not! Figured it was a good opportunity to have her be a tool. Aiming for very minor injury

She watched from the bracken with a tilted head, and burst into laughter when the girl finally slithered off. The way discomfort dawned on her golden features, like the face one makes before they're sick.

She'd never tire of freaking out strangers—when it was intentional, at least.

A part of her felt an urge to pursue; same as the coyote, her nails flexed against the dirt. Something to sink her teeth into. The golden ruff of a goodie-two shoes felt like the perfect target for some much-needed release. Just a quick little run-by, snap at a leg just to see her fall.

And so she did just that, quickened her pace, crept along after her, until a trot turned to a sprint. She came up close as she could, trying to snatch at the hind limbs of the girl.

Have a miserable walk to your pack then, if you're too good to be here.