11-24-2020, 02:55 PM
give my all just to watch you fall
The creeping sensation of being watched sends a tingle along her neck. It starts at the base and rises along the crest of her neck until she is turning her head towards the source. Her ears flatten, just a little, just like old times. He is a gilded, striking shape even amongst the new spring-bloom, but something about the image isn’t quite right. He looks uncommitted to where he’s at or where he’s found himself; she wonders if he wants to run.
She sees the lines of hesitancy etched across his body and wants to exploit them, she finds, as she might have a lifetime ago. That same need to messily unpeel and dismantle to locate the meaty center of him still lingers within her. It is surprising, this need. She thought the wild parts of herself had been straightened and civilized by her time with Halcyon and the Ischians, or at least marginally. Instead, the predator has grown sharper on the rare times it is freed. Titanya takes a purposeful step towards the other.
She’s never been one to withhold her own secrets, so when Rapt asks, she is all too eager to oblige. Letting loose the tiger is always like coming home (moreso than any place she’s ever been), but this time, she only shifts parts of herself. Her eyes switch from deep amber to bright gold when she blinks. Her fur ripples and grows longer and becomes painted with orange stripes by an invisible hand. Sharp canines poke out of the corners of her mouth and pull it into a feral grin. She looks like she’s either keen to wish Rapt a good day or ready to devour him on the spot.
She decides to wait and see how the conversation goes before she makes any rash decisions either way.
“Titanya.” The need for formalities is irritating; she swishes her dark tail against her hocks before shifting that, too, into the tiger’s longer appendage. With it, she increases the density in order to behead several wildflowers behind her. “I was trying to blend in and not scare the locals.” She gestures over one shoulder with her head. “But why should I change who I am for their sake?” Titanya steps closer to the stallion, her gold eyes drinking in his gold, watching the lines of him for any reaction. “You’re not scared, are you?” She growls, close to him now, the sound low like gravel in her throat.
She sees the lines of hesitancy etched across his body and wants to exploit them, she finds, as she might have a lifetime ago. That same need to messily unpeel and dismantle to locate the meaty center of him still lingers within her. It is surprising, this need. She thought the wild parts of herself had been straightened and civilized by her time with Halcyon and the Ischians, or at least marginally. Instead, the predator has grown sharper on the rare times it is freed. Titanya takes a purposeful step towards the other.
She’s never been one to withhold her own secrets, so when Rapt asks, she is all too eager to oblige. Letting loose the tiger is always like coming home (moreso than any place she’s ever been), but this time, she only shifts parts of herself. Her eyes switch from deep amber to bright gold when she blinks. Her fur ripples and grows longer and becomes painted with orange stripes by an invisible hand. Sharp canines poke out of the corners of her mouth and pull it into a feral grin. She looks like she’s either keen to wish Rapt a good day or ready to devour him on the spot.
She decides to wait and see how the conversation goes before she makes any rash decisions either way.
“Titanya.” The need for formalities is irritating; she swishes her dark tail against her hocks before shifting that, too, into the tiger’s longer appendage. With it, she increases the density in order to behead several wildflowers behind her. “I was trying to blend in and not scare the locals.” She gestures over one shoulder with her head. “But why should I change who I am for their sake?” Titanya steps closer to the stallion, her gold eyes drinking in his gold, watching the lines of him for any reaction. “You’re not scared, are you?” She growls, close to him now, the sound low like gravel in her throat.
Titanya
@[Cassi]