"Tyranis! Where the fuck is he?" Lips curl over her teeth as she spits the question into the air, the air that's so thick with the mingling scents of wolves all around that it nearly chokes her. Perhaps she is late to the party because she'd taken precaution with her litter and had covered them in leaves and blocked the den's opening in case there was a siege. After all, the motive behind the challenging call is still unclear to her.
Hackles raise tall along her spine and nape, and she flattens her ears as she curls into the scene. She growls as she joins those of Erövrare, Hannibal seemingly the one all the attention is on. Upon spotting Nephthys, Leera slips over to her side, but not before nodding gently to Thora. "Nephthys... he should be here. Fucking coward. I thank the gods for Klein." There's an edge to her voice, a hushed urgency. War is war, but it's different now that she's got an entire newborn litter to protect. And not only that, but they are the king's children. The heirs and heiresses of the very pack whose fate is undetermined at this very moment.
Hannibal speaks and his voice booms with bravery. He speaks of the alpha's absense, his cowardice and his hiding from battle. Leera agrees, and she flattens her ears and snarls at those who have gathered to destroy what she has worked so hard to uphold. It's up to Hannibal, now, not Tyranis, and as the battle begins Leera keeps her defenses up at all times, watching with fiery eyes.
Leera is a mature character.
Force/violence is permitted within reason.
Plot with us here!
