Panther Park when rome's in ruins, we are the lions free of the coliseums

set for yesterday

Do you think — ow! Her question is cut off by a sharp pain in her paw, and she halts immediately, lifting the offending limb to inspect it. The scent of blood reaches her even before she sees the flash of crimson welling around something embedded in her pad. She lifts her paw closer to her face. A thorn.
@Eastwood — She turns to him, uncertain how to approach asking for what she needs. No doubt he's already noticed the way she shrugs off pain in most situations, and she can't help feeling like she has a reputation to uphold. But she hates pulling things out of her own flesh. An uncomfortable shiver runs down her spine at the thought alone, and she glances between her companion and the thorn in her paw with shame clear in her expression.