When their eyes meet it is the land around them that shivers. Both wild in their own way, but of different worlds, both etched with a certain savagery not matched in others. Breezes ruffle evergreen needles and blow their spiced smell from the west, her head cocked just lightly to watch the stallion carefully as his voice rumbles clear and low. She nods to the hello but until the end of his words she has little more outward reaction.
“There is no word in this language for what I am.” Her tail swats gingerly behind her, her aqua eyes slide from east to west and back to him. “And tonight,” She coos, “pray tell...what are you, Magnus?” Her voice is low like his but without the subtle roll of thunder. Hers is milky, smooth and slow, a purr instead of a growl.
She makes no move toward or away from him as he steps closer. If he was infected without sign she was prepared to meet it with the quiet resolve she met every sickness she’s ever come across. If it kills her, it kills her, death is nothing to be avoided.
Kota
those great whites,
they have big teeth
@[magnus]
