To say that Litotes is shocked to see a panther crouching across from him would be an understatement. His initial gasp is followed by a second, quieter one. He blinks as every muscle in his body clenches at once, a slight quiver in his haunches following. Lie doesn’t move just as Istrid doesn’t move, and his stoicness is feline, hinting at the nature he, too, wears beneath his skin.
For a long stretch of moments, the shadow-weaver doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe.
But after those few moments, those long moments of contemplation, the teeth in his mouth begin to change. Flat molars become curved fangs. The throat in his neck becomes something primal, predatory. He stares back at Istrid, golden eyes just as unblinking, barely masking the childlike panic still behind them.
Then he growls—
And in a single, pale flash, he launches forward.
Hooves become wicked sharp claws and deft pads. Where once a regal stallion’s head stood high, now a wildly maned lion’s face snarls. He draws up just short of Istrid and bats roughly at her head, claws just barely out.
“Were you hunting me?” he rumbles, voice just a touch hushed, betting on this panther being something else beneath her dark pelt.
as it softly glides across your back
and i hope you leave right before the sun comes up
so i can watch it alone
@Istrid
