Amalia
she was afraid of heights
He falls, and Amalia growls her triumph, unaware of Loren's cracked rib, the damage she has inadvertently caused. Had she known how seriously he has been injured she would have stopped the moment he crumpled; instead she prowls and grins above him, her paw pressing gently against his chest. Checkmate, the leopard seems to be thinking, dark eyes sparkling with a feral triumph, fangs glittering white in the low light of the room. She has won this round, or so she thinks, her success leaving her flush and heady, the distracting pleasure of physical exertion causing her endorphins to rise.
She has won the battle but not the war. Where Amalia had expected surrender another attack appears instead, wolves materializing before and beside her in a flurry of teeth and fur. Snarling surprise and displeasure the leopardess draws back, though not fast enough to avoid the wolf's teeth leaving a mark upon her face, catching her cheek and tearing through flesh. The other wolf, meanwhile, bullies her off of Loren, and Amalia howls her obvious frustration, lashing out at the construct as she retreats.
Bleeding from her face, the leopard seems to reevaluate the situation, her body low as she tries to avoid the wolves. With powerful legs the feline springs, once again taking wing as her body contorts and changes in the air, an owl's screech leaving her beak. And then back to feline as she hits the ground, hoping to come up behind Loren, to catch him still upon the ground and put her paw upon his chest once more. Objective victory is what she wants, triumph, to overpower. She wants to win, to subdue this Outlander man who thinks himself so very superior. She wants so prove that she is stronger, that she is better.
She wants to feel something other than sadness, other than anxiety and crushing despair.
She has won the battle but not the war. Where Amalia had expected surrender another attack appears instead, wolves materializing before and beside her in a flurry of teeth and fur. Snarling surprise and displeasure the leopardess draws back, though not fast enough to avoid the wolf's teeth leaving a mark upon her face, catching her cheek and tearing through flesh. The other wolf, meanwhile, bullies her off of Loren, and Amalia howls her obvious frustration, lashing out at the construct as she retreats.
Bleeding from her face, the leopard seems to reevaluate the situation, her body low as she tries to avoid the wolves. With powerful legs the feline springs, once again taking wing as her body contorts and changes in the air, an owl's screech leaving her beak. And then back to feline as she hits the ground, hoping to come up behind Loren, to catch him still upon the ground and put her paw upon his chest once more. Objective victory is what she wants, triumph, to overpower. She wants to win, to subdue this Outlander man who thinks himself so very superior. She wants so prove that she is stronger, that she is better.
She wants to feel something other than sadness, other than anxiety and crushing despair.
but she was much more afraid
of never flying
