Amalia
'Cause she's just like the weather
Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
They will join you soon. Amalia growls low in response, anger ripping through her feline form, but still does not resist. She keeps her body low and her ears pinned, a snarl directed at the small, brunette fae, the apparent leader of this tribe as they lead her with spears and blows through the woods. They speak in a language beautiful and wild, not unlike the winged creatures themselves. Under separate circumstances the loreseeker may have been fascinated.Can't hold her together
Born from dark water
Daughter of the r a i n and s n o w
As it is, she is terrified and enraged.
Where are my friends? Amalia demands, inquires, still silent in leopard form as they at last draw to a halt. She feels braver in this skin, less vulnerable, less trapped, though her body still shakes. Hands are on her, pulling, untying, the leashes and lashes which hold her in place steadily falling away until the leopard sits, unencumbered, staring in bitter confusion at the fae. Why are you doing this?
And when she is told to jump-! Amalia glances into the pit, swallowing deeply in sudden dismay. Long claws extract and cling to the earth, as through she can anchor herself, lock her body here and remain outside this trap. Out of one cage and into another... the baker-turned-leopard again shakes her head, fresh determination and stubborn fire in her eyes, a pleading, questioning, wistful cadence in her mental voice. I won't go in another cage. All we wanted was to be free.
