08-21-2018, 11:49 PM
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An impenetrable silence falls over the solitary huntress as Yes Man begins to speak. Pallid olive eyes gaze upon the ardent with measured respect as she listens, though the single ear twisted in Dante's direction hints that she remains aware of the strange hybrid's presence. It does not take long for the pale cheetah to answer Melantha's question as to why she was summoned. A promotion, huh? And a secret one at that? Plain, angular features remain impassive, but the huntress is secretly pleased. Although she can remember very little of her life before the Pitt, the mountain lioness knows that subterfuge has always been her area of expertise. Lurking in the shadows; always watching, always guarding. Out of the limelight.
Powerful jaws part, ivory canines glinting in the sunlight, as the female prepares to respond, but they snap shut upon Dante's rushed words. "I've got Yes Man." A surge of annoyance races up her spine. Not that Mel particularly cares who she guards, but she just knows that Dante's choice is based purely on the assumption that guarding the ardent makes him more important. Of course you do, you slimy little fish-weasel. The golden wildcat holds her tongue, instead peering down at the smaller creature with narrowed eyes. For a moment, the idea of squishing his tiny body with her much largely bulk is incredibly appealing, but Melantha is practiced at remaining outwardly composed. She hates brown-nosers and elitists, but she hates showing her cards even more.
Only moments after Dante made his choice, Mel offers a curt nod in acknowledgement. "I suppose I will take on both Toga and Esklav until a new strong arm is chosen. It only makes sense, since I am the strongest physically." Was that a dig at the teeny tiny size of her fishy companion? Possibly, but it is impossible to tell for sure if she is insulting the male or not given that Melantha is remarkably stone-faced. It is not the challenge that Dante was looking for. Sarcasm or no, the female is far too duty-orientated to get herself involved in a petty row. Besides, she is not bothered by the extra work. It just gives her more things to do. She does enjoy being useful.
Powerful jaws part, ivory canines glinting in the sunlight, as the female prepares to respond, but they snap shut upon Dante's rushed words. "I've got Yes Man." A surge of annoyance races up her spine. Not that Mel particularly cares who she guards, but she just knows that Dante's choice is based purely on the assumption that guarding the ardent makes him more important. Of course you do, you slimy little fish-weasel. The golden wildcat holds her tongue, instead peering down at the smaller creature with narrowed eyes. For a moment, the idea of squishing his tiny body with her much largely bulk is incredibly appealing, but Melantha is practiced at remaining outwardly composed. She hates brown-nosers and elitists, but she hates showing her cards even more.
Only moments after Dante made his choice, Mel offers a curt nod in acknowledgement. "I suppose I will take on both Toga and Esklav until a new strong arm is chosen. It only makes sense, since I am the strongest physically." Was that a dig at the teeny tiny size of her fishy companion? Possibly, but it is impossible to tell for sure if she is insulting the male or not given that Melantha is remarkably stone-faced. It is not the challenge that Dante was looking for. Sarcasm or no, the female is far too duty-orientated to get herself involved in a petty row. Besides, she is not bothered by the extra work. It just gives her more things to do. She does enjoy being useful.