Marcus
Turn the rich into wine as you walk on the mean
Marcus huffed a quiet breath through the bandanna at her grin, amusement flickering beneath the tension. He knew she was smiling because of the way it reached her eyes, and Marcus felt some of the tension ease between his shoudler blades. His gaze swept low first. Then his attention shifted upward, tracking breaks in the canopy where birds might cut through, or even where a startled flock would try to escape.
The guide’s warning drew an immediate adjustment. The young hybrid angled wide around the bright flower, shoulders turning to keep his gear from brushing it. At Colt’s comment, his brow pulled faintly. He hoped they wouldn't miss, but Marcus knew very well that hunts didn't always go your way. He wished he could use his eagle shift to take one of the birds down. It seemed easy enough, but he knew that was why he couldn't -- Frey had set this before him as a challenge.
"Together, then." Marcus said as he stepped in again after the guide.
The guide’s warning drew an immediate adjustment. The young hybrid angled wide around the bright flower, shoulders turning to keep his gear from brushing it. At Colt’s comment, his brow pulled faintly. He hoped they wouldn't miss, but Marcus knew very well that hunts didn't always go your way. He wished he could use his eagle shift to take one of the birds down. It seemed easy enough, but he knew that was why he couldn't -- Frey had set this before him as a challenge.
"Together, then." Marcus said as he stepped in again after the guide.
