Isla
babe, there's something so lonesome about you
What more, indeed? Knowing that they aren't as privileged as true Attuned in this shift, nevertheless Isla doesn't mind relying upon pure feline instinct in place of a magical bond. And so, offering a furred cheek and the press of whiskers against the affectionate headbutt Maea delivers, the tiger playfully flops back out of reach of batting paws, before rolling, shaking, and trotting after her fellow Ancient.
With dirt beneath her feet and a Longheat breeze in her face, it's not only easy to lose herself to the shift - it's impossible to resist it. Catching up to Maea only to swat at her tail, they cross the plains of Mourn as if they have always belonged there. And, only when a familiar scent hits the air - a deer, Isla thinks - does she lower her haunches and slow her steps. Lope becomes prowl, and her whiskers twitch with the anticipation of the hunt.
With dirt beneath her feet and a Longheat breeze in her face, it's not only easy to lose herself to the shift - it's impossible to resist it. Catching up to Maea only to swat at her tail, they cross the plains of Mourn as if they have always belonged there. And, only when a familiar scent hits the air - a deer, Isla thinks - does she lower her haunches and slow her steps. Lope becomes prowl, and her whiskers twitch with the anticipation of the hunt.
something so wholesome about you
