Similarly engrossed in her own battle, Thal can only appreciate the pleasant symphony of crunching bones and ripping flesh. She trusts the men enough to hold their own as she gives her attention to the black mass of fur and muscle barreling towards her, blooding streaming behind it. Her paws plant in the snow, standing her ground with a rumbling growl of warning that the wolf doesn't heed. It makes her want to laugh, especially as she waits just long enough for it to lunge before she's leaping over it.
Sailing through the air, she shifts, horns and pale skin catching what sunlight makes it through the trees, fangs glistening like they've been sharpened just for this moment. Her boots are barely crunching in the snow when she vanishes, darting into the wolf's range to slash her dagger across hind leg. Its yowl echoes through the small clearing, but Thal doesn't stop, flaring the fire to draw its attention. When its head turns, she vanishes in a blur of shadow, drawing her blade and flames against its throat to cut off the cry. Blood sprays across her face and the snow around them, the victory and bloodlust thick in her mind.
She pounces. Her face buries into the fur and blood, the cold forgotten in the warm heat of its body on her tongue. Blade and fangs pull it apart to get at the muscles and organs, appreciating it with a soft groan of satisfaction that should serve as enough warning to anything that might interrupt her.
Sailing through the air, she shifts, horns and pale skin catching what sunlight makes it through the trees, fangs glistening like they've been sharpened just for this moment. Her boots are barely crunching in the snow when she vanishes, darting into the wolf's range to slash her dagger across hind leg. Its yowl echoes through the small clearing, but Thal doesn't stop, flaring the fire to draw its attention. When its head turns, she vanishes in a blur of shadow, drawing her blade and flames against its throat to cut off the cry. Blood sprays across her face and the snow around them, the victory and bloodlust thick in her mind.
She pounces. Her face buries into the fur and blood, the cold forgotten in the warm heat of its body on her tongue. Blade and fangs pull it apart to get at the muscles and organs, appreciating it with a soft groan of satisfaction that should serve as enough warning to anything that might interrupt her.
thalassa
i came committed, guess i overdid it
