02-27-2021, 07:03 PM
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[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2e8b57; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px"]HOW DO YOU RUN FROM Y[color=#5d8e93]OUR OWN MIND?
The petite fleshweaver's personal experience with shapeshifting was limited to her mutated form. She had not been born half-deer, nor with a pair of wings. Despite the panic and confusion waking up in such a state, trading paws for hooves and sprouting feathered wings, she had grown comfortable. It felt... Like her.
Her brother had been an avid shapeshifter since birth. Capable of fluid changes. The memories still danced in her mind's eye sometimes. Now muddled with the pain of grief. The incontrollable laughter when they played chase and his attempt to shift into something bigger and faster backfired... It still made her smile. For a moment. And she wondered if she could shift so naturally as he had... She hadn't tired. Hadn't really cared to.
She certainly didn't care about Dante's own attempt. Would huff in irritation if she knew it came from memories of Vale of all treacherous individuals. Would have passed him by without a second thought, hadn't it been for the sudden angry curse finally catching her ear. Confused. A little curious.
Her hazel hues flickered around for a bemused moment. A little lost. No hybrid... A... A racoon? "..." [abbr=what...?]Quel...? "Dante?"
Okay. It was... A little funny. Her lips might've began to quirk up just a little... After all, she could not imagine him purposely trying to shift into a racoon. No. It was more likely a backfire. Like when her brother turned himself into a gecko.
Still. Hiding a smile, the druid raised her brows. "What... Why are you... Why are you a racoon?"
[/td][/tr][/table]Her brother had been an avid shapeshifter since birth. Capable of fluid changes. The memories still danced in her mind's eye sometimes. Now muddled with the pain of grief. The incontrollable laughter when they played chase and his attempt to shift into something bigger and faster backfired... It still made her smile. For a moment. And she wondered if she could shift so naturally as he had... She hadn't tired. Hadn't really cared to.
She certainly didn't care about Dante's own attempt. Would huff in irritation if she knew it came from memories of Vale of all treacherous individuals. Would have passed him by without a second thought, hadn't it been for the sudden angry curse finally catching her ear. Confused. A little curious.
Her hazel hues flickered around for a bemused moment. A little lost. No hybrid... A... A racoon? "..." [abbr=what...?]Quel...? "Dante?"
Okay. It was... A little funny. Her lips might've began to quirk up just a little... After all, she could not imagine him purposely trying to shift into a racoon. No. It was more likely a backfire. Like when her brother turned himself into a gecko.
Still. Hiding a smile, the druid raised her brows. "What... Why are you... Why are you a racoon?"
© MADI
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AINE CHARLOTTE NÍ BROIN - THE PITT - 10 MOONS - RED DEER-FOX
[div style="font-size: 12px; padding-top: 175px; padding-right: 30px; padding-left: 5px; color: white; text-align: left; text-transform: uppercase"]I come & scour
desert flower
the land for the