#artfuldisplaysofviolence

[zzzzzzzz]: It would be great if you got buried in concrete.[zzzzzzzz]: Holy fuck that worked[zzzzzzzz]: So if I don’t plan to send it, I can type it?[zzzzzzzz]: You failed to keep me away from Damon. Sucks to be as sucky as you.[zzzzzzzz]: I genuinely think Marcel likes me better.

The lioness stalked out of the woods towards the changing cabins, the lower half of her face matted with blood, stained dark. There wasn't much to hunt around the Fiddle (the shifters were off-limits, of course), but she made do with some smaller animals. But it lacked a challenge.

A gust of wind passed her and suddenly she froze mid-stride, her senses flooding with a distinct smell... one she hadn't come across in hundreds of years. Lion shifter. Male. Katherine loosed her jaw and breathed it in, just to be sure. Healthy. Old. Male. Lion.

Her head swiveled to look upwind at the main building. In the distance, she spotted the shifter in his human form—Shame, she wanted to see his mane— and eyed him carefully. She knew he'd never smell her with the wind blowing her way... Katherine let their distinct roar loose across the expansive lawn, a relatively quiet one, but just enough to garner a little attention.

"And how about you join me?”

KLAUS MIKAELSONvampire / werewolf / hybrid non-canonprivate RP-blognot open for plotting