You Can’t Take Me

While there most certainly were notes of leather in his scent, she had not been hoping to taste nothing but leather. Her jaws snapped down over the strong bracer, and it was at the last second she checked herself, pulled the power of her bite so no bones would snap. Still, she latched on hard and tried to take the opportunity to trap him, to pull him down long enough to get ahold of him. She snarled viciously and looked up with golden eyes, tried to get a peek under that stupid hood.. but she let herself get distracted by the briefest flash of blue, had almost seen at least something telling, and she didn't see his leg coming for her. Ashe let out a sharp yelp of surprise, releasing the man's arm as she was suddenly sent tumbling onwards with her forward momentum - tail over ears. She thudded down onto the ground shoulder first with a grunt, landing on her side hard enough to knock the air from her. Ashe growled and lurched to get her paws back under her, and she charged after him as he scaled that pillar.. and he paused, looking down at her. The chase wasn't done - couldn't be. The wolf leaned up and braced her right her forepaw on the pillar, ears forward as she tilted her head up at him. She couldn't scale the stone in her furs, but she could see him better, hear him, smell him. Her eyes were inquisitive, as if they hadn't just been chasing each other across the ruins of this unknown hell-hole for violent delights. Her tail even swished just once behind her, and she let out a small a frustrated bark. He wasn't just gonna let a wolf chase him up a pillar, was he? She'd be sorely disappointed if her bite on his arm had shaken him. Surely it had only been hard enough to bruise… really bruise. Then she spotted the shape of a whip, and her hackles bristled. Ashe pushed off of the pillar and shifted as she did, stepping back on two legs to glare warily up at her elusive companion. She ignored the way her legs started to tremble, the way her back prickled, and she hated herself for the power that stupid fucking weapon had over her. She'd never had to face a whip until now, no one ever used one in Northaven, nor had one ever been raised to since that day she was taken from the pit and dragged into a very different sort of hell. She stepped back, her head tilted up to watch the man, and she snarled at herself just barely for the way she flinched, fists clenching when that whip snapped upwards around a pole. Even in her wariness, she’d be lying if she said she wasn't impressed with the way he used it to swing to the next rooftop, metal snapping just as he secured his landing. ’We're not done yet asshole,’ she thought, and she surged forward. Ashe grit her teeth and made a running leap at the wall the man had landed on. Her fingertips gripped the edge as the toes of her boots held the wall itself, and she hissed at the strain in her hands. Still, she hauled herself up and crouched upon the crumbling wall. She snapped her electric eyes at her prey just as he looked over his shoulder at her, and she hated how shadowed his face was.. but that smirk was painfully familiar. Impossibly so, of course, but she still found herself twitching her nose at his look before she blew him a snarky kiss with a smirk. Then she was dashing after him on that wall, her heart racing as she moved as nimbly as a feline. Her smile had returned with that whip wrapped neatly at the man's hip, but she kept a careful eye on the hands that could reach for it. She kept up with him, but kept a careful distance between them in light of that fucking thing, and she never lost sight of him. She echoed his every step with her heart racing, and she began keeping a look out for alternate routes. If she could cut him off again, hedge him against some ruins or ever flat out tackle him, she could figure out just who he was and what he wanted with her… But that would end the chase, wouldn't it? He made ot clear he had no intention of actually fighting her - a frustrating disappointment, especially when she thought of that stupid smirk. ’Tease.’ Ashe’s rosebud lips feathered into a feral smirk, and she palmed one of the throwing knives always strapped her thigh - a cool matte black in color in contrast to the gleaming, silvery steel he had thrown for her. She let the blade fly, her aim true, and she'd slice clean through the shoulder of his tunic, maybe knick his shoulder. A warning that she was close, and a promise that she intended to get closer. Kalt ashetta it's live or die my way.