sins you never said to yourself

Thalassa

A cold breeze rustles her fur and Thal sinks lower in her crouch, eyes narrowing against the afront, but she stays silent, searching for signs of the approaching predators intent on hunting her friend. She catches glimpses of Asta through the trees, balking at the sound of approaching wolves. His acting is like a spiderweb of beautiful lies, drawing their prey closer with the enticement of a scared, weak feirw.

Thal hears the shifting of leaves ahead, beginning to spot the shadows that move around them on the path. It's hard to tell how many there are, but she can make out at least three. If the pack is much bigger, they might actually have some difficulty holding their own, but Thal is determined to succeed, her hunger and bloodlust strong enough to convince her it's worth the risk. 

Deciding that it would be best to strike before Asta gets tackled - when the surprise might be enough to scatter them - she slows the twitch of her tail and moves forward through the trees until she's hidden behind one of the prowling wolves. A single, deep breath is the only warning before she's lunging, claws and fangs eager for flesh. She only hopes Asta recognizes enough of her intentions to start some chaos of his own.

Bite my tongue, bide my time
Wearing a warning sign