Leera watched the other femme, ears laid back against her crown. It was slightly off-putting, the way the girl had not yet come to her aid, and Leera was growing impatient. She yanked on her leg again, demanding her attention. "I'm going to get loose either way, so what's in it for you is I won't go searching for your pelt when I do."
The clock was ticking. Night was blooming. Leera had things to do and she didn't want to waste her first moments in Ardent getting lectured about the price of actions -- if anyone knew that, it was Leera. This other woman had no clue who she was talking to. "A member of your species is hung in a trap and you do not save her..." she mongers with ease and a disappointed flick of her tail. "You are no wolf of keen spirit, then."
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
