- @prairieprince81

If I have to pay for it, I wouldn't be interested, no. Though I also wouldn't like seeing some stranger in a closed off area, so we have to meet in a public location for you to give me the jam, if I don't have to pay

Comin' home from checkin' traps. Sorry, I know it's uh... takin' me longer than usual. I had a run in with someone and she...

Eric admits this, although clearly with some shame that he was more trusting than he ever should've been of his attacker.

Hi darlin'.

He clutches onto Mason as long as he can, in a similarly possessive way... but also as a form of self soothing. The adrenaline levels in his body from being hunted by a predator (Why would he trust a big cat ever, even if she did somehow know his sister's name? It makes Eric feel like a fool...) finally begin lower the longer they make contact. He clings to Mason the same way a dog clings to their owner, solidifying the hunter's feelings of ownership over the cowkin.

Eric's ears lower. He looks ashamed to admit he was more trusting than Mason would ever approve of him being, but he's admitting it nonetheless.

I was checkin' a trap that was farther out when some stranger---a big cat beastkin lady--- approached me. She was friendly, initially, and uhm.. she knew my sister's name, and about Tommy, so I.. well I kinda let my guard down around her and obviously I shouldn't have.

He doesn’t respond just yet but the space between them feels tense as if Mason is scoffing his young with silence. He connects the dots with B’s recent odd behavior change. He feels a bit impressed by the change but his mind is focused on a much more toxic place..

He is humming a tune now as he works.. Mason ties it tightly licking the blood off his thumb.

You know better, you’ve done better.

The thought of putting a collar on his neck and keeping his husband as a damn animal has popped back into his mind after several months of conditioning himself to not do so.

Yessir, I'll be more careful next time...

Then he blinks, wearing a blank expresssion for a moment. Eric processes the words he's said, and he looks slightly horrified. The cowkin stumbles over his words, his face flushing red with embarrassment.

What? I mean. Uhhh... yeah. Okay. Understood. It's for the best, right.

The cowkin looks at Mason, eyes worried and searching for approval. Eric speaks fast, his voice tinged with a rushed anxiety to let the hunter know he's paying attention now. The bull struggles to nod given his situation, but he tries his best.

Yessir! I'm sorry, I am now, I'm sorry...

I can’t trust you on your own if you make choices like this. You’re too rare to lose.. I’ll be damned if you die over ignorance.

We have a child. A proper family. If we have another I wouldn’t be able to raise them properly without you. I believe Ash is capable of surviving on their own terms but risking everything we’ve built over a name?

Mason is now silent again.

'I should've never let my guard down. I should've just stabbed her in the fucking neck like I planned to do in the first place, and rightfully watched her choke on her own blood, fuckin' tresspassers, liars, betrayers, backstabbers, all of them, nobody can be trusted besides him---' he thinks. Eric is silent, but he starts to get (and look) angrier and angrier the longer he lingers on his mistake. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself and redirect his distracted thoughts.

He nods again, speaking as calmly as he can muster, even as he's teetering on the edge of a furious rage (that wasn't caused by Mason, keep in mind, but rather by his own feelings of constant incompetence and his injustice at being manipulated) that makes him want to throw the nearest object within reach at... well, god knows what. Maybe the wall, maybe out of the kitchen window, maybe at Mason. It's a roll of the dice, but luckily he hasn't acted on the impulse. Yet.

Yessir. I understand. It won't happen again.

Outside, it's absolutely pouring down rain. It's not much brighter inside the building than it is outside, the wooden walls of the living room lit up only by the flame that's dying in the stone fireplace.

In the shadows, there stands a cow-like figure, their identity obscured by the dark corners of the cabin. They're as still as a corpse... at first you could mistake them for Eric, by outward appearances, but they don't smell like Eric. No, the only smell that hangs in the air is that of burnt flesh and incense, a harsh scent that stings the nose of most.

Lightning strikes nearby, too close for comfort. The violent sound that results cracks through the air, and the light briefly illuminates the cabin living room.

Inside, a cow beastkin is standing there... but it isn't Eric.

Bright green eyes are staring directly at Kate through the cabin window, with an intensity and anger most that mortals do not ever witness in their short lifetimes. In those eyes, Kate can see reflections of people and beastkin alike burning, painfully writhing around in huge flames that lick up towards the night sky. Their mouths open in a silent scream, skin charring, fat melting... the smell of burnt flesh gets more intense, overpowering. It's strong enough to make one's eyes water.

Her stomach growls from the smell of the burnt flesh. A lion instinct to eat any flesh. She quite like the smell from coming inside the cabin. Kate moves towards the window.

Finally noticed that Eric wasn't there but B. She didn't know who is B but she thinks it his sibling. Kate sees their green eyes staring at her. Kate was looking in their eyes as she bite her lip. She smelt the burning flesh. She didn't look away from B eyes. She was under cover from the tree.

Walking closer to the cabin to attack B.

Oh, you don't want that. Actually, if you were a smart little kitty, you'd be running right now.

Whatever this is---it's definitely not human. It's not even beastkin. Nothing, nobody on earth that exists has two voices. The sound is otherworldly as it rings in Kate's ears.

And what they're saying? It sounds less like a threat and more like they're speaking matter-of-factly. Their tone is surprisingly light, far too jovial for the look in his eyes.

But perhaps you aren't that smart. Ask me that again... ask and ye shall recieve, child.

Show me where is Eric and I will be on my way. I'm here to take care of his wound on his ankle.

The cabin door slams open so aggressively it shakes the entire home. It's closed with the same amount of force as well... The voice that follows is just as loud, booming even. It makes birds fly off from the trees in fear. They're very clearly upset and losing patience with the lioness. The ruckus happening up front awakens Eric, who was sleeping, clutching his equally slumbering child.

WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?

To find distance as you seem like a very aggressive person.

When the dagger is plunged into their throat, they don't react at all. B only blinks, his grip getting just a little tighter around her throat. It's as if he didn't even feel it! No choking on blood or struggling to breathe. if anything, the action did nothing but make them more angry and more determined. Actually, he's not even bleeding true blood... it's a strange thick substance that looks like something crossed between honey and amber. It smells sweet, cutting through the burnt flesh scent B reeks of.

He stares up at the lioness, his grip on her neck remaining steady even as she tries to squirm and thrash around to get away. B's green eyes are full of a cold anger that could only be held by a father towards his son's attacker. Their voice is calm and calculated as they speak to Kate, lifting her from the ground and towards the stormy sky by the neck.

Oh, little girl, you're going to regret that. You're going to regret the moment you laid hands on my son, actually. I'm going to kill you slow, and bring you back just as slowly. The memory of your death with be burned into the backs of your eyelids, and i'll loop it on repeat as many times as I so please, just to watch you suffer.

Comin' home from checkin' traps. Sorry, I know it's uh... takin' me longer than usual. I had a run in with someone and she...

Eric admits this, although clearly with some shame that he was more trusting than he ever should've been of his attacker.

Hi darlin'.

He clutches onto Mason as long as he can, in a similarly possessive way... but also as a form of self soothing. The adrenaline levels in his body from being hunted by a predator (Why would he trust a big cat ever, even if she did somehow know his sister's name? It makes Eric feel like a fool...) finally begin lower the longer they make contact. He clings to Mason the same way a dog clings to their owner, solidifying the hunter's feelings of ownership over the cowkin.

Eric's ears lower. He looks ashamed to admit he was more trusting than Mason would ever approve of him being, but he's admitting it nonetheless.

I was checkin' a trap that was farther out when some stranger---a big cat beastkin lady--- approached me. She was friendly, initially, and uhm.. she knew my sister's name, and about Tommy, so I.. well I kinda let my guard down around her and obviously I shouldn't have.

He doesn’t respond just yet but the space between them feels tense as if Mason is scoffing his young with silence. He connects the dots with B’s recent odd behavior change. He feels a bit impressed by the change but his mind is focused on a much more toxic place..

He is humming a tune now as he works.. Mason ties it tightly licking the blood off his thumb.

You know better, you’ve done better.

The thought of putting a collar on his neck and keeping his husband as a damn animal has popped back into his mind after several months of conditioning himself to not do so.

Yessir, I'll be more careful next time...

Then he blinks, wearing a blank expresssion for a moment. Eric processes the words he's said, and he looks slightly horrified. The cowkin stumbles over his words, his face flushing red with embarrassment.

What? I mean. Uhhh... yeah. Okay. Understood. It's for the best, right.

The cowkin looks at Mason, eyes worried and searching for approval. Eric speaks fast, his voice tinged with a rushed anxiety to let the hunter know he's paying attention now. The bull struggles to nod given his situation, but he tries his best.

Yessir! I'm sorry, I am now, I'm sorry...

Comin' home from checkin' traps. Sorry, I know it's uh... takin' me longer than usual. I had a run in with someone and she...

Eric admits this, although clearly with some shame that he was more trusting than he ever should've been of his attacker.

Hi darlin'.

He clutches onto Mason as long as he can, in a similarly possessive way... but also as a form of self soothing. The adrenaline levels in his body from being hunted by a predator (Why would he trust a big cat ever, even if she did somehow know his sister's name? It makes Eric feel like a fool...) finally begin lower the longer they make contact. He clings to Mason the same way a dog clings to their owner, solidifying the hunter's feelings of ownership over the cowkin.

Eric's ears lower. He looks ashamed to admit he was more trusting than Mason would ever approve of him being, but he's admitting it nonetheless.

I was checkin' a trap that was farther out when some stranger---a big cat beastkin lady--- approached me. She was friendly, initially, and uhm.. she knew my sister's name, and about Tommy, so I.. well I kinda let my guard down around her and obviously I shouldn't have.

He doesn’t respond just yet but the space between them feels tense as if Mason is scoffing his young with silence. He connects the dots with B’s recent odd behavior change. He feels a bit impressed by the change but his mind is focused on a much more toxic place..

He is humming a tune now as he works.. Mason ties it tightly licking the blood off his thumb.

You know better, you’ve done better.

The thought of putting a collar on his neck and keeping his husband as a damn animal has popped back into his mind after several months of conditioning himself to not do so.

Yessir, I'll be more careful next time...

Then he blinks, wearing a blank expresssion for a moment. Eric processes the words he's said, and he looks slightly horrified. The cowkin stumbles over his words, his face flushing red with embarrassment.

What? I mean. Uhhh... yeah. Okay. Understood. It's for the best, right.

-💮🌹

Jasmine? Oh lord...

The wounds on her body seem to want to regenerate again and again without success, including the one on her neck.

"Ngh-"

Sorry Jas, I know it hurts... but I have to.

Eeic rushes back over, to prevent her from actually falling. He carefully scoops her back up in his arms and brings her to the living room, laying her out on the couch... it's much less higher and a lot more comfortable.

Eh-... Qu-

She looks around, noticing Eric.

What are you taking about?

She tries to get up, but regrets it when she feels the sensation of her wounds and stitches.

Ah- shit!...

She examines her own body, noticing every wound that did not heal.

Eric holds his hands out when Jasmine tries to get up, trying to signal her to stop.

Oh--hey, you really shouldn't---

Then he sighs.

Yeah, I think that might be best. No, it'll be fine, I doubt Mason will mind too much. Say, though... what exactly can you recall from before waking up here?

I guess I didn't leave on good terms with my last boss, so you know... He's sending people to kill me

Don't worry Eric, it's not that serious!

As for who my boss is... I don't think it's appropriate to say, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone close to you knows him. Don't worry, he's not my boss anymore... Although that's actually part of the problem, so forget I said that...

Hold on. It's not a certain Fox, is it?

Jas... that's the last guy you wanna be hunting you down. You better hope he don't send nobody out here to get you. If my child or my husband gets hurt because of you---

Eric gives another heaving sigh. He's worked himself up with "what if's" again, knowing it'll probably be fine. Jasmine will need to be careful outside of the cabin, though.

You and your family are safe... He's just looking for me around the city.

And if you're wondering why I'm not dead...

She taps the healthy part of her neck, causing a sound like a small metallic tap.

Eric relaxes upon hearing her reassurance. He nods, listening to Jasmine speak about the tool. Create their own beastkin children? Eric's never heard of such a thing, but science is strange...

Well... I think I do have a tracker, but it's not around my neck. In fact, I don't know where it is. All I know is that it's very old and that scientists were only able to use it for a month before it stopped working.

She sees her own hand, extending and hiding her claws.

Eric gives a shrug, looking unbothered. As long as that tracker doesn't work, nobody can find her out here, therefore the cabin and his family.

Eric walks off into his and Mason's bedroom, trying to find some clothes for Jasmine to wear... he goes through the growing pile of clothing left behind by unfortunate hikers (or by the even more unfortunate victims Mason purchases as game) the two have come across. It all stays in a cardboard box Eric has held onto, to be used for whatever they are needed for: whether it be for fabric scraps or clothes for a guest.

Thank you, I will try to return it to you as soon as possible.

She sits down slowly, then carefully gets up from the sofa. She's tall, definitely. Although she's a little hunched over.

... Could you tell me where the bathroom is?

Eric very obviously notices the bleeding, pausing half way through his sentence to look at her neck with worry. He hopes he didn't miss a spot when stitching Jasmine up, considering he did it as quickly as possible.

Thank you, I'll go change.

Meanwhile, Jasmine is in the bathroom, changing her clothes. She doesn't have the sense of smell of an ordinary human being; she detects a faint mixture of scents on the clothes, but she doesn't dwell on it. She's already used to things like this.

Okay...

She quickly scans the bathroom, looking for something that might help her escape later, before opening the bathroom door and going back to Eric.

The bathroom doesn't seem to hold much... basics, mostly. Soap, a few toothbrushes. There's no window to try and leave through, either, just a wall of solid wood.

"I'm sorry,"

she says, her voice soft, though she's looking down at the floor, somewhat embarrassed.

It's okay, i'm not upset about it, I just... uh...

Eric briefly looks down at the acidic burns marking his table before meeting her gaze again. His voice comes out lowly, displaying his hesitance to point out the unnatural state of Jasmine's blood.

That's... that can't be healthy, can it?

Oh. Eric's just showing concern for her health. But then again, having to sow someone's head back onto their neck and for them to turn out fairly fine afterwards isn't exactly normal either, is it?

She glances briefly at the table, then looks back at Eric, a little nervous now.

That's healthy... But only for me.

She looks away, she doesn't want to think about how she's not normal, how she doesn't even know what she is.

Eric's face goes cherry tomato red. He looks highly embarrassed to have put Jasmine on the spot in such a way. The cowkin struggles over his own words as he tries to apologize for pointing out Jas' more... unusual qualities.

I'm so sorry, I'm just glad you aren't sick or injuried I just wasn't sure---but I know that now so---oh, bless it...

Comin' home from checkin' traps. Sorry, I know it's uh... takin' me longer than usual. I had a run in with someone and she...

Eric admits this, although clearly with some shame that he was more trusting than he ever should've been of his attacker.

Hi darlin'.

He clutches onto Mason as long as he can, in a similarly possessive way... but also as a form of self soothing. The adrenaline levels in his body from being hunted by a predator (Why would he trust a big cat ever, even if she did somehow know his sister's name? It makes Eric feel like a fool...) finally begin lower the longer they make contact. He clings to Mason the same way a dog clings to their owner, solidifying the hunter's feelings of ownership over the cowkin.

Eric's ears lower. He looks ashamed to admit he was more trusting than Mason would ever approve of him being, but he's admitting it nonetheless.

I was checkin' a trap that was farther out when some stranger---a big cat beastkin lady--- approached me. She was friendly, initially, and uhm.. she knew my sister's name, and about Tommy, so I.. well I kinda let my guard down around her and obviously I shouldn't have.

He doesn’t respond just yet but the space between them feels tense as if Mason is scoffing his young with silence. He connects the dots with B’s recent odd behavior change. He feels a bit impressed by the change but his mind is focused on a much more toxic place..

Comin' home from checkin' traps. Sorry, I know it's uh... takin' me longer than usual. I had a run in with someone and she...

Eric admits this, although clearly with some shame that he was more trusting than he ever should've been of his attacker.

Hi darlin'.

He clutches onto Mason as long as he can, in a similarly possessive way... but also as a form of self soothing. The adrenaline levels in his body from being hunted by a predator (Why would he trust a big cat ever, even if she did somehow know his sister's name? It makes Eric feel like a fool...) finally begin lower the longer they make contact. He clings to Mason the same way a dog clings to their owner, solidifying the hunter's feelings of ownership over the cowkin.

Eric's ears lower. He looks ashamed to admit he was more trusting than Mason would ever approve of him being, but he's admitting it nonetheless.

I was checkin' a trap that was farther out when some stranger---a big cat beastkin lady--- approached me. She was friendly, initially, and uhm.. she knew my sister's name, and about Tommy, so I.. well I kinda let my guard down around her and obviously I shouldn't have.

Comin' home from checkin' traps. Sorry, I know it's uh... takin' me longer than usual. I had a run in with someone and she...

Eric admits this, although clearly with some shame that he was more trusting than he ever should've been of his attacker.

Hi darlin'.

He clutches onto Mason as long as he can, in a similarly possessive way... but also as a form of self soothing. The adrenaline levels in his body from being hunted by a predator (Why would he trust a big cat ever, even if she did somehow know his sister's name? It makes Eric feel like a fool...) finally begin lower the longer they make contact. He clings to Mason the same way a dog clings to their owner, solidifying the hunter's feelings of ownership over the cowkin.

Outside, it's absolutely pouring down rain. It's not much brighter inside the building than it is outside, the wooden walls of the living room lit up only by the flame that's dying in the stone fireplace.

In the shadows, there stands a cow-like figure, their identity obscured by the dark corners of the cabin. They're as still as a corpse... at first you could mistake them for Eric, by outward appearances, but they don't smell like Eric. No, the only smell that hangs in the air is that of burnt flesh and incense, a harsh scent that stings the nose of most.

Lightning strikes nearby, too close for comfort. The violent sound that results cracks through the air, and the light briefly illuminates the cabin living room.

Inside, a cow beastkin is standing there... but it isn't Eric.

Bright green eyes are staring directly at Kate through the cabin window, with an intensity and anger most that mortals do not ever witness in their short lifetimes. In those eyes, Kate can see reflections of people and beastkin alike burning, painfully writhing around in huge flames that lick up towards the night sky. Their mouths open in a silent scream, skin charring, fat melting... the smell of burnt flesh gets more intense, overpowering. It's strong enough to make one's eyes water.

Her stomach growls from the smell of the burnt flesh. A lion instinct to eat any flesh. She quite like the smell from coming inside the cabin. Kate moves towards the window.

Finally noticed that Eric wasn't there but B. She didn't know who is B but she thinks it his sibling. Kate sees their green eyes staring at her. Kate was looking in their eyes as she bite her lip. She smelt the burning flesh. She didn't look away from B eyes. She was under cover from the tree.

Walking closer to the cabin to attack B.

Oh, you don't want that. Actually, if you were a smart little kitty, you'd be running right now.

Whatever this is---it's definitely not human. It's not even beastkin. Nothing, nobody on earth that exists has two voices. The sound is otherworldly as it rings in Kate's ears.

And what they're saying? It sounds less like a threat and more like they're speaking matter-of-factly. Their tone is surprisingly light, far too jovial for the look in his eyes.

But perhaps you aren't that smart. Ask me that again... ask and ye shall recieve, child.

Show me where is Eric and I will be on my way. I'm here to take care of his wound on his ankle.

The cabin door slams open so aggressively it shakes the entire home. It's closed with the same amount of force as well... The voice that follows is just as loud, booming even. It makes birds fly off from the trees in fear. They're very clearly upset and losing patience with the lioness. The ruckus happening up front awakens Eric, who was sleeping, clutching his equally slumbering child.

WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?

Comin' home from checkin' traps. Sorry, I know it's uh... takin' me longer than usual. I had a run in with someone and she...

Eric admits this, although clearly with some shame that he was more trusting than he ever should've been of his attacker.

-💮🌹

Jasmine? Oh lord...

The wounds on her body seem to want to regenerate again and again without success, including the one on her neck.

"Ngh-"

Sorry Jas, I know it hurts... but I have to.

Eeic rushes back over, to prevent her from actually falling. He carefully scoops her back up in his arms and brings her to the living room, laying her out on the couch... it's much less higher and a lot more comfortable.

Eh-... Qu-

She looks around, noticing Eric.

What are you taking about?

She tries to get up, but regrets it when she feels the sensation of her wounds and stitches.

Ah- shit!...

She examines her own body, noticing every wound that did not heal.

Eric holds his hands out when Jasmine tries to get up, trying to signal her to stop.

Oh--hey, you really shouldn't---

Then he sighs.

Yeah, I think that might be best. No, it'll be fine, I doubt Mason will mind too much. Say, though... what exactly can you recall from before waking up here?

I guess I didn't leave on good terms with my last boss, so you know... He's sending people to kill me

Don't worry Eric, it's not that serious!

As for who my boss is... I don't think it's appropriate to say, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone close to you knows him. Don't worry, he's not my boss anymore... Although that's actually part of the problem, so forget I said that...

Hold on. It's not a certain Fox, is it?

Jas... that's the last guy you wanna be hunting you down. You better hope he don't send nobody out here to get you. If my child or my husband gets hurt because of you---

Eric gives another heaving sigh. He's worked himself up with "what if's" again, knowing it'll probably be fine. Jasmine will need to be careful outside of the cabin, though.

You and your family are safe... He's just looking for me around the city.

And if you're wondering why I'm not dead...

She taps the healthy part of her neck, causing a sound like a small metallic tap.

Eric relaxes upon hearing her reassurance. He nods, listening to Jasmine speak about the tool. Create their own beastkin children? Eric's never heard of such a thing, but science is strange...

Well... I think I do have a tracker, but it's not around my neck. In fact, I don't know where it is. All I know is that it's very old and that scientists were only able to use it for a month before it stopped working.

She sees her own hand, extending and hiding her claws.

Eric gives a shrug, looking unbothered. As long as that tracker doesn't work, nobody can find her out here, therefore the cabin and his family.

Eric walks off into his and Mason's bedroom, trying to find some clothes for Jasmine to wear... he goes through the growing pile of clothing left behind by unfortunate hikers (or by the even more unfortunate victims Mason purchases as game) the two have come across. It all stays in a cardboard box Eric has held onto, to be used for whatever they are needed for: whether it be for fabric scraps or clothes for a guest.

Thank you, I will try to return it to you as soon as possible.

She sits down slowly, then carefully gets up from the sofa. She's tall, definitely. Although she's a little hunched over.

... Could you tell me where the bathroom is?

Eric very obviously notices the bleeding, pausing half way through his sentence to look at her neck with worry. He hopes he didn't miss a spot when stitching Jasmine up, considering he did it as quickly as possible.

Thank you, I'll go change.

Meanwhile, Jasmine is in the bathroom, changing her clothes. She doesn't have the sense of smell of an ordinary human being; she detects a faint mixture of scents on the clothes, but she doesn't dwell on it. She's already used to things like this.

Okay...

She quickly scans the bathroom, looking for something that might help her escape later, before opening the bathroom door and going back to Eric.

The bathroom doesn't seem to hold much... basics, mostly. Soap, a few toothbrushes. There's no window to try and leave through, either, just a wall of solid wood.

"I'm sorry,"

she says, her voice soft, though she's looking down at the floor, somewhat embarrassed.

It's okay, i'm not upset about it, I just... uh...

Eric briefly looks down at the acidic burns marking his table before meeting her gaze again. His voice comes out lowly, displaying his hesitance to point out the unnatural state of Jasmine's blood.

That's... that can't be healthy, can it?

Oh. Eric's just showing concern for her health. But then again, having to sow someone's head back onto their neck and for them to turn out fairly fine afterwards isn't exactly normal either, is it?

Outside, it's absolutely pouring down rain. It's not much brighter inside the building than it is outside, the wooden walls of the living room lit up only by the flame that's dying in the stone fireplace.

In the shadows, there stands a cow-like figure, their identity obscured by the dark corners of the cabin. They're as still as a corpse... at first you could mistake them for Eric, by outward appearances, but they don't smell like Eric. No, the only smell that hangs in the air is that of burnt flesh and incense, a harsh scent that stings the nose of most.

Lightning strikes nearby, too close for comfort. The violent sound that results cracks through the air, and the light briefly illuminates the cabin living room.

Inside, a cow beastkin is standing there... but it isn't Eric.

Bright green eyes are staring directly at Kate through the cabin window, with an intensity and anger most that mortals do not ever witness in their short lifetimes. In those eyes, Kate can see reflections of people and beastkin alike burning, painfully writhing around in huge flames that lick up towards the night sky. Their mouths open in a silent scream, skin charring, fat melting... the smell of burnt flesh gets more intense, overpowering. It's strong enough to make one's eyes water.

Her stomach growls from the smell of the burnt flesh. A lion instinct to eat any flesh. She quite like the smell from coming inside the cabin. Kate moves towards the window.

Finally noticed that Eric wasn't there but B. She didn't know who is B but she thinks it his sibling. Kate sees their green eyes staring at her. Kate was looking in their eyes as she bite her lip. She smelt the burning flesh. She didn't look away from B eyes. She was under cover from the tree.

Walking closer to the cabin to attack B.

Oh, you don't want that. Actually, if you were a smart little kitty, you'd be running right now.

Whatever this is---it's definitely not human. It's not even beastkin. Nothing, nobody on earth that exists has two voices. The sound is otherworldly as it rings in Kate's ears.

And what they're saying? It sounds less like a threat and more like they're speaking matter-of-factly. Their tone is surprisingly light, far too jovial for the look in his eyes.

But perhaps you aren't that smart. Ask me that again... ask and ye shall recieve, child.

:3