✯ — female. striker of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

The tiny Striker had arrived a tad late, plopping herself down towards the back of the crowd, ears perked.  She didn't really have an excuse for being a bit on the slow, unnoticed side; she was tired, yes, and still recovering from a week of sickness, but she was well enough to be around.  She'd have to step it up.  That was fine.

As things came to a close, Keona did not notice anything wrong.  A few others, the more sensitive kind, no doubt sensed impending danger, and those with eyes might've noticed a second before Pincher's warning, but the child had no awareness.  Once she finally came into her heritage more, perhaps she'd feel the ocean as her father did, but until then, such events caught her off-guard.

And frightened her.

Everyone was moving, far too quickly and chaotically, for her to make sense.  She felt a little dizzy.  Disoriented.  Everyone was, at the very least, moving in generally the same direction, which was better than the alternative; Keona really wouldn't have been able to handle that.  Even so, she let out a soft whimper, paws shaking.

Her brain started working; she was already closer towards the back, to the exit.  She knew the way, but moving with the crowd of frantic crewmates would be too much.  She was too small.  But.  She was fairly certain she caught her father's scent, just a whiff, and that was enough to move her.

On wobbly legs, she took a few slow steps, then, weaving around the crowd - she did plan on getting trampled today - attempted to follow the scent.  Attempted, for the first time, without realizing, to sense her father's presence.  His specific aura.  She could not see it, but she knew it was there.

"Da!" Tripping a little bit, over her own paws, she made a quick dash for Kian, pale sea-green eyes wide in fear, mixed with relief at finally finding him.  Her father would keep her safe.  Not even the ocean could touch her with him around; she was sure of it.

code by spacexual