Ain't shit slick to a can of oil; any

[Vyx]

A mere slip of a black shadow could be caught as it whirred and bounded through the Jungle, never lingering in a spot long enough for idle eyes to lay upon. Vyx had grown to love the dense soil that spread through her claws like she loved the way flesh broke beneath her claws. And she had grown to love the way the foliage of the verdant kingdom wrapped you in an emerald cathedral that was far too easy for a fox to lose herself in. And that she did – Vyx went days without shifting back into her horse form. Claws were more useful than hooves and she much preferred her sharp teeth to the dull ones, all the better to eat you with my dears….

But for the sake of appearances, once the inky-black vixen sprung from beneath a huddling of fronds she shifted into her equine form. It wasn’t an instant transformation, no, Vyx was a true shifter – she was born with foxblood that coursed just as red and warm as her horseblood.  Paw pads shifted into dainty hooves at the end of long, sculpted legs, her sly smirk sliding to sit now upon the face of a delicate Arabian instead of that of a sleek fox. Perhaps she’d have more interactions in the Jungle if she didn’t have such sharp teeth, or maybe just more boring ones. I like creatures that like creatures with sharp teeth.

Nevertheless, the slender mare comes to a shaded clearing, dips her horse head and takes a begrudged bite of raingrass. Look, i'm eating grass, now someone better come fuckin play with me.

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Ah, though Scorch may not have the fluffy tail of a fox nor the pointed snout, she has the heart and the teeth of one. However carnivorous her mouth bids her to be, however, she has never thirsted for blood. Well, not in a thirsty way. To say that she has not charged into battle with the full intention of tasting red iron upon her tongue would be an utter and complete lie. Would you expect any less from my big fiery girl?

She’s meandering – no, striding purposefully (queens don’t meander) - through the festively green kingdom when the sound of light hooffalls draw her attention back to the real world. A single ear peels away from its back-facing position, curious as to just what creature could have such light a step. Most women here were very large – hell, have you seen her? And the children, well, they simply are not that quiet.

Curiosity peeked, the mare veers through the trees, stepping over a rotting log as leaves pull against her bare skin. Surging through the resistance, a streak of blood appears on her left shoulder, though she pays it no mind. The dancing of her fire conceals the wound well, anyhow.

Peering into the shaded clearing, the sixteen hand tall woman spots the dainty Arabian. She’s seen the face, and heard the name, and only now comes to put them together. Scorch snatches a mouthful of grass on her way towards the young fox-shifter. For some odd reason, she feels incredibly exhilarated to finally be meeting the vixen.

“You’re a pretty one.” Tuscan-red eyes perform a one-over on the sleek midnight mare. “Got anything besides looks going for you, Vixie?” She smirks darkly, completely aware of the incorrect usage of Vyx’s name. Alas, nicknames really are quite fun. You can’t blame her for simply wanting to have fun.

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle