Sound the Alarms
Her brother greeted her with his usual flair, taunting her with comments about her age. She lifted her head from her drink, impassive expression melting into a glower. Well, that little asshole. She straightened her spine, lifting her head again to stare him full in the face. There was something in his expression, no, he looked calm and happy. Like usual. Something was off though, and she wasn't quite in order of her body quite yet to figure it out. The cool air was still trying to worm its way through her thick pelt to caress her skin. She returned to her original train of thought instead. Sure, she was a couple minutes older, but she was by no means rotting away under her own skin. A low growl rumbled in her chest, and she lifted one paw at a lazy attempt to cuff him over the head. The barest trace of a grin twitched at her lips. Her expression went cold for a minute, and she leaned forward to press her nostrils closer to his celestial pelt. There was the difference. It was the smell of him. None of the overbearing musk that was his natural scent, well, not so much, at least. There were many long stayed aromas building upon it, changing it just the slightest. He smelled like Faria, which was no surprise, except maybe in this concentration. He was sticking much closer to her, which was good. If she disappeared, it would be the end for Caia's ability to think clearly and trust herself. He also smelled like a multitude of other wolves, which wasn't really characteristic of Mithras. Was he making friends, or getting into the wrong place at the wrong time? Had he joined a pack? Then, just below the others, the milky sweet scent of babes. She lifted her head again slowly, staring him down as she processed this. One of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong here. Her eyebrow cocked upward as she watched Mithras' expression. "I'm not the only one to change so drastically in their old age, now am I, brother mine?" She questioned in a silken purr, a honey coated blade. She remained still, save for the flick of her cosmic banner twitching. "If what I think this is, is as such," she trailed off in her usual gruff, warning tone, keeping her expectant expression from illustrating just how angry she was going to be if it was. If Mithras' had spawned some hellish little children, she was going to fucking murder him. No one would find the body, not where she was going to leave it.
"Speech" |
