11-13-2018, 08:53 PM
[align=center]SHE LOST HER VOICE DOWN BY THE RIVER, SCREAMING FOR COURAGE
The ocelot and her odd pet came, drawn by the noises of battle and loud conversations. Her dark orange eyes narrowed skeptically, as she recognized Eddie's aura in the large alligator... but it looked muted, with a stronger color overtaking his usual light. Had those colors been in him all along, simply small enough for her to ignore? Curious about his predicament -- he reminded her of Bast, with his patchwork network of souls -- the ocelot pocketed the observation for later, potentially as an annoying question. With a quick scritch to the top of her piebald crocodile's head, she ordered, "Eri, please take care of the threat." Without waiting for her to finish her sentence, the crocodile shot with surprising celerity towards the massive snake. Thanks to Eddie's involvement, her pet managed a clean bite around the snake's head, crushing and thrashing it in between his jaws. He continued to writhe, his scales splattered with blood as he scored massive gashes down the dying snake's flesh. He looked like a giant puppy with a frightening chewtoy.
Trusting Eri to finish his work, the ocelot turned three of her four eyes to the strange canine, envying his wings. "You appear injured," she stated factually, noticing the awkward way he carried one of his wings. Now, that made her glad she lacked the appendages; they became damaged far too easily. "I am Rosemary Roux, physician of the Rosebloods. What are you doing here?" she asked, straight to the point. As she spoke, her pet continued to chew on his meal; Rosemary watched with one of her smaller eyes, though otherwise seemed to approve of his brutality. He, after all, perfectly executed her order.
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?