your words, my mouth / joining

[emil]

[align=center][div style="width: 600px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 550px; padding: 0px; line-height: 13px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]The trek through the desert was not one she enjoyed. She hated the heat. She had been raised in it, forced to grovel in the sand, do whatever task was instructed of her. Only after she had been turned did she find her claws. She overthrew the place that had treated her as a slave, ruled it for some time, before leaving it to the wolves. Power was always something she had craved, but controlling a mere village of sexist freaks was not enough for her. She wanted more. Carmen had her eyes set on bigger things.

She had slept for a long time before coming all the way out here. A couple hundred years she believed, but such was not a big deal. It had invigorated her; fed the flame within her that craved control, and after some traveling, her path was set on the Pitt. A little desert group filled with little warmongers, falling a bit short from what she had heard as of late. Carmen could fix that. It would not be easy, surely, but she could definitely fix it. All it took was some cozying up to the top dog for a while, working her charm, then slitting their throat. It was definitely a good thing the woman was patient. She would bide her time until the moment came and make her move.

The cougar was significantly relieved when she finally came upon the jungle. A quick, refreshing change from the horrid sun burning into her back, to the coolness of the biome. This was much more her taste. She rolled her shoulders and paced forward a few steps, holding her chin up high and regally. "Pittians," The woman rumbled out, a pierced ear twitching. "My name is Carmen. I'm interested in joining your ranks."