Bounty on your head

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

A cat can sense another cat, and Amalia's ears flatten further at Delah's hissed warning, her fur standing nearly on edge. Defile and prodding are the slaps of whips, burrs beneath her skin, hurting more because it may be true. They have gone wantonly into their woods, invading and leaving their mark, their tracks. The girl thinks of the countless Outlanders appearing like mice in a winter barn, taking over and making themselves comfortable, heedless of the denizens who live within.

But that was different... wasn't it?

I'm sorry. We should have asked you first, but... nobody came to speak to us. We don't want to invade or defile. We just want-

But before she can finish a wind picks up, pulling and shoving at her fur, an unnatural gale with the fae in the middle. Amalia snarls against the zephyr, lowering her body to the ground as the earth crumbles beneath her claws. Paws morph into fingers for a better grasp, though her long tail remains, swinging wildly to maintain balance. Mort! Amalia silently curses, her dark eyes glaring into Delah's brown, a stubborn set to her jaw. We did nothing to hurt you. Just let me go home.