Mud Monsters and Pack ghosts
06-27-2020, 11:32 PM
She wiggled her brows when Mortis popped out the cat claws -- whatever works. And it was smooth indeed: not quite the shearing she'd get using her own steel claws, no, but useful in their own way. Her eyes trained on Mortis' first couple of strokes, she smiled, gave a tail wag or two. "Hey, not bad." It wasn't the cleanest thing, sure, but she'd been the same way when she was first learning.
Mal had been even more impatient back then, but she'd weathered through the process, if only to better experience the perfection that was salmon. By the time she'd moved on, the yearling had mastered cleaning fish, having hunted so many of them.
Going the whole nine yards was tedious, though, and she couldn't blame him when he declined. The girl tucked into a fish, or two, or three, as the night crawled on. The tiniest nudge of caution kept her alert... but nothing disturbed them. The moon wandered across the sky; the tongues of flame flickered, crackled and spat before them.
Current time: 11-24-2024, 08:23 PM
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