This time, when she uses her nose to draw in the autumn air, blood isn't the only things she smells. There was something else out there. Her primrose eyes narrow as she stands still, watching the trees around her as darkness settles in quicker and quicker.
But as the scent draws closer, it's clear to Leera that there is no beast lurking in the woods. It's a wolf. A female wolf, from what she can tell. She's almost thrilled to have company to toy with, but remembering her current condition is somewhat of a dread. It isn't long before the fae shows herself, stepping into the small clearing to ask a question; a question to which Leera tightens her jaw at. "Nobody wins if you don't make yourself useful and assist me," she answers, giving a tug to her hind leg which rattles the thornbush. She subtly eyes the stranger, taking in the small details of her coat, her size, her eyes. "Cut me loose with your teeth."
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
