08-01-2019, 07:16 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 45%; font-family: arial; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px;"] Vathmos hadn't seen something like her before. Was she beautiful? Was she dangerous? She was an outsider, that was sure. She smelled different. The tribe would have tried to overpower her or run her away from their home. She had the shape of a lion or a leopard, but she was huge and her fur was an impossible color. How did she look so well?
Vathmos didn't know Arrow, she had not even met her fellow clanmate before she met her end. So, she did not feel much of anything. No worries- Arrow was just another number to her. It did enlighten her, however, learning that they did not their dead here. Food was food to Vathmos, it was how you paid respect to Lamashtu.
Vathmos came out of the underbrush, wet mud on her paws and dried blood on her muzzle. There were patches on her torso, medicine applied to still-healing bite wounds from her own kind. That hideous laughter came from her throat as she put herself behind Wormwood, her head bobbing out from behind him. Maybe it was her way of investigating the stranger. She finally looks at the baskets, head lowered to stare from under Wormwood. Okay, well, everyone else seemed to be fine with the stranger. That meant it was safe for her to approach too, right? She took a more confident posture, ears up and head high, walking out from behind Worm and approaching her.
"What are you? Where are you from?" This stranger's scent was unfamiliar to her, as Vathmos was unaware of the other groups. She trodded forward lightly, smelling the baskets with some amount of caution. Whowartee arruet teehowetseet?
Vathmos didn't know Arrow, she had not even met her fellow clanmate before she met her end. So, she did not feel much of anything. No worries- Arrow was just another number to her. It did enlighten her, however, learning that they did not their dead here. Food was food to Vathmos, it was how you paid respect to Lamashtu.
Vathmos came out of the underbrush, wet mud on her paws and dried blood on her muzzle. There were patches on her torso, medicine applied to still-healing bite wounds from her own kind. That hideous laughter came from her throat as she put herself behind Wormwood, her head bobbing out from behind him. Maybe it was her way of investigating the stranger. She finally looks at the baskets, head lowered to stare from under Wormwood. Okay, well, everyone else seemed to be fine with the stranger. That meant it was safe for her to approach too, right? She took a more confident posture, ears up and head high, walking out from behind Worm and approaching her.
"What are you? Where are you from?" This stranger's scent was unfamiliar to her, as Vathmos was unaware of the other groups. She trodded forward lightly, smelling the baskets with some amount of caution. Whowartee arruet teehowetseet?