THE SOUND | open

[ANIMA B.]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-size:8pt;font-family:verdana"]It's a grizzly sight for sure, but that doesn't mean that Anima is put off by it. She watches as Talia tears into the poor feline, the fucker never really stood a chance against a hound, now did it? It's not the blood or the gore that phases her, the scraps flying aside and the bones picked clean. The blood is everywhere, if she steps much closer she'll be stood in the entrails and guts of the wildcat torn to pieces in a mournful rage.

No, death doesn't bother her. No - Talia bothers her. Talia being in pain bothers her - she's barely had time to speak to an old friend before she's sobbing and howling with a pain that makes Annie's heart in sympathy if nothing. And there's nothing to say, is there? Anima isn't comforting, she isn't good with words and she doubts her ability to help her friend. Actually, she knows that she'll be of no help and honestly, she guesses she'll do more harm than good. So she watches, trying to formulate a response that won't turn the panther into the next thing being feasted on by the hound.

An apology? On behalf of who? Herself, for interrupting and seeing a moment of vulnerability. She has no bond to pull on, nothing but her words as she tries to reach for something that'll help her friend. Nothing comes to mind, so she steps closer tentatively, absentmindedly noticing the squelch of the guts underneath her paw and takes in a deep breath. It smells of blood so much that she can almost taste it.

[b]"Talia...?" It's all she can manage to say her friend's name like a plea, to use Annie for whatever she needs to be okay. She doesn't know what else to offer but her presence - but even that feels wrong.