She comes, drawn to the bright scent of blood in the air. Saliva pools in the dark, warm pocket of her mouth, a hunger blossoming in the pit of her stomach. Of course, she's eating for more than one now -- the pups of the High Lord rest in her womb -- and her cravings are more intense.
Slipping through the tangle of trees with the silence of a cat that her minimal size allows, Leera finds the path of the scent with ease. She follows it tightly, unafraid of what killer she may find and also curious of this killer; she's grown bored of bedrest, perhaps walking in on a murder is exactly what she needs.
When Leera finds him, it's his hulking size she first notes. Then, it's the shadowskin of his coat, the scars that trace along his features. She's disappointed he's only have hunted, killing a doe rather than another of their species. Keeping to the trees, she observes for several moments. Perhaps she'll let him scent her first -- it'd be more fun this way.
speech action
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
