The Tangle but if this changed your life did you have one before

her appraisal of his aesthetically pleasing monochrome coloring is cut abruptly short as the stranger makes a direct beeline for her. eske's muscles tense as her hackles and the fur at the nape of her neck bristle. his eyes — the color of blood, she notes — are locked on the collar around her neck but the wanlida has never before been so boldly approached by a stranger before and she takes the approach as a threat. "hod klin!" she spits the command in her native tongue just as he chirps in a language that she does not understand. he is faster than she anticipated and from the flurry of movement and the initial shock his muzzle, blood soaked and flecked with bits of flesh is pressed against the collar. her heart is in her throat, the pulse hard against the pressure of the collar. his teeth are too close for comfort and to hide the fear she feels at that knowledge she lets out a low, warning growl from betwixt trembling lips. "get off me." eske demands coarsely in common tongue, recoiling away from him.