runnin' late with half your makeup on

The willows made for massive, sweeping trees for the jaguar to wait in. The Warlord knew he was there, hiding somewhere in the long leaves above them. As Hazel backed up, the Warlord subtly modified his stance, keeping himself close to the girl. A shield, if the cat decided to leap down at them from its perch.

Hazel examined the marks, and quickly came to the right conclusion. “Exactly.” he said as he could see the moment she understood, and adjusted her own stance accordingly. How to get them out, she asked. And indeed, that was the question. “What do we know about him so far? He’s young, looking for his own territory, and has a lot to prove. How would you go about it?” he challenged her, wishing to see where her own mind went.

"Sirius Fatalis"