the sky is red, does that mean its made for me?

Fear was not something Calliope often experienced. It wasn't that she was fearless, but more so that she refused to allow it to guide her life. If anyone was going to be making decisions for her, it would be her and her alone. But that morning, as the sun rose in a blood red sky, it was perhaps the first time in her life she would admit to being scared. The tremors lasting throughout the night hadn't helped. The cries of animals piercing the air didn't help either. And as she watched her family set off toward a peculiar thing in the distance, she began to wonder why she was following.

"Not sure why we're heading toward the spooky shit," Calliope rumbles under her breath as she approaches the red-tinted fog. Her paws stop suddenly as the spires come into view. With breath caught in her throat and eyes widened with the one emotion she hates admitting she feels, she feels frozen in time. What the fuck were these things and where the fuck had they come from?

When she brings her eyes away from the towering metal spikes, her pastel gaze catches on a figure cloaked in red as well. Calliope narrows her gaze, fur bristling, the fear leeching into her core as she begins to stalk toward the female. Clearly this, albeit very attractive, creepy red wolf should surely know what was happening since she looked so similar to the red skied phenomenon that enveloped them.

"You." Her voice slides out, both sultry and menacing. Though her appearance is all faeries and cotton candy, there is nothing sweet about her domineering expression and stature. Prowling forward like the predator she is, she keeps her head up, eyes narrowed slightly as they glide over the feminine form of the enchantingly crimson female. "What do you know about this?" Calliope practically seethes, lips trembling slightly as they hold back the snarl she so often holds.

"Speech"