Fresh Poison Each Week

Mariah's fur bristled against the biting cold as she assessed the situation- her heart pounding in her chest as the massive, blue-tinted worm, known as Fred, surfaces from the frozen depths. Its razor-sharp teeth glint in the dim light, and Mariah can feel the frigid air grow even colder with its presence. But as the situation begins to unfold, her instinct for survival kicked in. With a silent nod to her guide, she moved swiftly, her paws barely making a sound on the ice. Her muscles tense as she creeps around, using the floating stage of ice as cover. Her keen senses guide her, allowing her to position herself strategically behind the creature. She eyed its movements, calculating the perfect moment to strike.

"Mariah Mendacium"OOC. Mariah has chosen dexterity.