“You guys are probably too little to know about hurricanes,” Asena says from where she lounges in the sand. Having layered both invisibility and illusion thickly around herself, she’s not surprised that the two children had raced past her without a second glance.
She’d followed them, curious, and her disguises were shed on the jungle floor as she trailed them to the open beach. Her voice had come from behind the two cubs, and she steps forward to peer more closely at the two cubs with curious violet eyes.
“Which one of you is Nekana?” She asks, pronouncing the name like the warrior queen of old, and just a little bit like @[Nekane]. “I’m Asena. I’m your cousin.” There is a hardly perceptible pause before the final word, as though she was trying to recall exactly what the name for daughter of your father’s brother was, and settling for cousin, of which she has very many. She feels closer to them in age than aunt implies, as well, having just passed her third birthday. The antlers that she sports reflect that, one white-tipped purple tine for each spring she’s borne witness. Today she’s decorated them with flowers and vines (though her nap had rumpled them) using her tail, which now curls – long and white, across the purple slope of her shoulder.
“Anyway, that -” she gestures with her muzzle toward the distant storm “- is a hurricane. They suck you up and put you right down in Pangea and then a monster’ll eat you before you cough the water outta your lungs.” There is a solemnness on her face that lends sincerity to her warning, and she looks from one striped face to the other with a warning in her eyes. And then she shrugs, complete nonchalance, and adds: “At least that’s what I’ve heard. But I’ve always been smart enough to take shelter before they get here so I’ve never been sucked up.”
@[Volos]
A S E N A
will I remember to put a quote here before i post?
probably not