graphic gore ★ genderfluid ★ six-legged panther

Leaping high in the jungle canopy, the six-legged panther tempted fate. The branches in this height weren’t sturdy enough to hold vis weight, each pawstep a gamble, but the thrill send adrenaline shivers down Vale’s spine. Without drugs, death-defying thrills were often the only way the bonehead felt alive.

A child’s scream in the distance snagged Vale’s attention, at the same moment vis paw slipped on a branch. The mutated feline tumbled, then disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Vale teleported directly onto a kapok tree’s trunk. Vis lips pulled back into a snarl and black sludge dripped down vis chin. Unfortunately, all groups had children in their ranks—thankfully fewer in the Pitt, though there was always at least one underfoot—as a necessary but annoying requirement for population stability.

If Vale wasn’t trying to be a better leader for the Pitt, ve would’ve ignored the distress call and carried on with vis adrenaline rush of a hunt. If ve wasn’t this deep into the Pitt’s territory, ve also would’ve ignored the scream, but because the child was clearly a Pittian—or trespasser who would assimilate into the ranks or die—and Vale might be the only one within earshot to respond…

Vale huffed, rolled vis shoulders, and leaped onto the next tree. As a small consolation, running to the child’s rescue was exactly the same as the thrill-seeking behavior ve’d indulged in before the scream.

[member=23353]arfur[/member]