10-22-2018, 09:41 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-22-2018, 09:46 PM by NUI HARIME.)
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The scent of blood is a sharp tang. Bitter yet sweet like the sweetest honey, and it clogs her nostrils and sits heavy in the back of her throat.
Her distaste is clear when she approaches with the soft pitter patter of padded paws against smooth, alabaster snow and soft crunches. Her nose, as pink as a rose's petal, wrinkles at the glaring scent of the Ascendants. Her dislike comes not from the kill, but at the blatant waste of food. Displeasure rippling beneath fiber-woven skin that ached for the blood of the body before her, Nui clamped her square teeth down on her tongue to stave her hunger. If Atbash wasn't adverse to it, perhaps the body would not go unused after all?
But the Icestriker would rather find the perpetrator, and stuff the abandoned carcass down their throat herself.
It was such a large carcass as well. To see it discarded in such a way made her blood boil.
Her sapphire gaze, glinting with hidden devilish intent, flickered to the form of Atbash valiantly attempting to drag the limp cadaver back to camp. She tuted gently, clicking her tongue against her mouth as she moved to assist, butting the head of her cranium against the other end of the jaguar that Atbash was not carrying. Perhaps it was a somewhat futile effort-- her body was miniscule in comparison to the predator before her.
"What shall we do? Surely we can't ignore the stench of our allies. This is unacceptable-- their actions, foolish at best." Grunting with effort and curling her lip with a serpentine hiss unbefitting of her current body, Nui goaded for a response from the leader. And then she resumed a moment later after a ginger pause.
"Shall I deal with the body after the vigil?"
Her methods for 'dealing' with the body were vague at best, the desire to utilize the skin in cruel ways breathing gently against her spine.
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SNOWBOUND
FEMALE
ICESTRIKER
FEMALE
ICESTRIKER
[div style="width: 360px; font-family: verdana; color: white; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]❝ LA VI EST DROLE! ❞
The scent of blood is a sharp tang. Bitter yet sweet like the sweetest honey, and it clogs her nostrils and sits heavy in the back of her throat.
Her distaste is clear when she approaches with the soft pitter patter of padded paws against smooth, alabaster snow and soft crunches. Her nose, as pink as a rose's petal, wrinkles at the glaring scent of the Ascendants. Her dislike comes not from the kill, but at the blatant waste of food. Displeasure rippling beneath fiber-woven skin that ached for the blood of the body before her, Nui clamped her square teeth down on her tongue to stave her hunger. If Atbash wasn't adverse to it, perhaps the body would not go unused after all?
But the Icestriker would rather find the perpetrator, and stuff the abandoned carcass down their throat herself.
It was such a large carcass as well. To see it discarded in such a way made her blood boil.
Her sapphire gaze, glinting with hidden devilish intent, flickered to the form of Atbash valiantly attempting to drag the limp cadaver back to camp. She tuted gently, clicking her tongue against her mouth as she moved to assist, butting the head of her cranium against the other end of the jaguar that Atbash was not carrying. Perhaps it was a somewhat futile effort-- her body was miniscule in comparison to the predator before her.
"What shall we do? Surely we can't ignore the stench of our allies. This is unacceptable-- their actions, foolish at best." Grunting with effort and curling her lip with a serpentine hiss unbefitting of her current body, Nui goaded for a response from the leader. And then she resumed a moment later after a ginger pause.
"Shall I deal with the body after the vigil?"
Her methods for 'dealing' with the body were vague at best, the desire to utilize the skin in cruel ways breathing gently against her spine.
© MADI