Spinning out of control somewhere on the road to happiness

Hotaru

Somewhere my lifeline still hums and sings
In the mess of all I have thrown away

The grit of sand under her paws and the intensified scent of blood and sweat and grime against the roof of her fang-filled mouth is a predatory high she hasn't indulged in for far too long. Like a viper, her tail lashes threateningly, the glow of hazel surrounding razor-thin pupils an unblinking threat that tracks the retreating men who had tried to take advantage of a situation that had never included them to begin with. Vultures, really. Opportunistic fools; and it seems Colt suffers fools as readily as Hotaru does. She leaps back toward Colt to offer her assistance, but it becomes clear in a matter of seconds that it's entirely unneeded.

The Valkyrie shifts back to better witness the denouement of their encounter, smirk subtle and indulgent as the cat lingers beneath her skin. Andraste leaps and glides over the ice between them to coil around her ankles with a pleased hum in her scaled throat that echoes in Hotaru's moments later.

"Not quite the ending I'd hoped for when I joined your game, but if the winnings are the same, who are we to bemoan the middle parts?" One fingernail transforms into a wicked claw, only to pry sand from underneath the other meticulously groomed free edges of her human ones, flicking it away with vacant distaste. Sauntering over to the table, she hauls the unconscious lard by the back of his shirt as if he weighs nothing, and drops him unceremoniously on the ground to gain access to the winnings he'd been draped over like a roosting hen. "I believe these are rightfully yours, gorgeous. Care to take them and find better company? Perhaps mine?" The offer is extended with a smile that is more mist and mystery than honesty, curiosity the only distinguishable gleam in her bright eyes.

Hungry now,
I am gathering new seeds to throw wide