Isla
babe, there's something so lonesome about you
"Any time," Isla says, reaching out to give Asta's forearm a quick squeeze, before she's following on heel towards where they might begin their hunt. "I suppose we should. I'll be right here, remember. This is a team game today." Dropping back just enough to give him space to shift, once man becomes fyrhund, Isla also exchanges flesh for fur, the hulking shape of a tiger flattening low to the ground to prowl in Asta's wake.
Slow enough that little puddles of gold have begun to gather beneath her from her molten stripes, she waits for him to peep around the cracks in the rock until, with a burst of feathers and raspy croaks, their prey takes to the air. And unlike the fyrhund forcing himself through it, Isla's feline instincts and the prickle of her bloodlust already have her making chase, springing into action as lithe as a coiled spring.
Swiping lazily at a couple of the low flying corvids, their movement manages to spook more from the surrounding nests, and soon there are plenty to pick from.
Slow enough that little puddles of gold have begun to gather beneath her from her molten stripes, she waits for him to peep around the cracks in the rock until, with a burst of feathers and raspy croaks, their prey takes to the air. And unlike the fyrhund forcing himself through it, Isla's feline instincts and the prickle of her bloodlust already have her making chase, springing into action as lithe as a coiled spring.
Swiping lazily at a couple of the low flying corvids, their movement manages to spook more from the surrounding nests, and soon there are plenty to pick from.
something so wholesome about you
