Hotaru
She's the kinda girl that you can never please
She scarcely keeps herself from clapping her palms over her ears as he howls, though her shoulders hike up against her will as it drowns out all other sound, including the burble of laughter that it inspires from her breast. It is a powerful crescendo of sound, but she can see his soul shining through the hound’s eyes, boyish and bright with mischief that she knows will bite her in the ass. Hotaru throws the wood even so. When his jaws clench around it she shouts in delight, bouncing on the sand and cheering as her arms wave overhead in delight. It’s an entirely different skill set, in a body that has not trained nearly as much as his human form, and Hotaru delights in the way he effortlessly shows off. Up until he squints at her, frozen in the moment, and she reads his intentions out of his skull as easily as words off a page.
“Don’t you dare,” she threatens loudly, trying and failing to stop the twitch of her lips. When Deimos spins and takes off, she shouts and gathers her skirt to chase after him barefoot down the beach, abandoning her shoes and all sense of pride. She won’t catch him, but it doesn’t mean she won’t try. “Get back here!”
