If she was anyone else, an anthrax infection could be a serious problem – fatal, even. But not at a speed to affect a battle. A cutaneous anthrax infection is, after all, the least harmful of the anthrax infections; nevermind the fact that naturally occurring anthrax can take - even at its fastest - one to seven days to start causing symptoms. Even if he regains some control over the spores he has multiplied into and doesn’t have to pull all of his own particles back together for the next shift, it will take time for Noah’s body to react to the infection. To be sure, Aodhan <i>has</i> infected her, but it will be an unpleasant surprise for the future, not a factor in today’s battle.
Noah is just deciding to bite the bullet and land when suddenly there is weight again, faint but perceptible, between her shoulder blades. She banks hard to the side, the airborne equivalent of a spook, and stumbles the landing, a sharp pain in her left foreleg letting her know she’s not going to come out unscathed from this encounter. But it holds her weight as she spooks again, on four legs this time, when he becomes something heavier, something <i>grabby</i>. Noah can’t see him, still on her back, but she knows where he is as something pulls hard against her mane. She spins to the right, protecting her left foreleg as much as possible, and the momentum helps eventually throw him off the left side, minimizing but not eliminating the time that cat-Aodhan has to scratch at her shoulder and neck. Noah squeals in frustration while she moves, irritated by the sharp lines his claws score in her flesh, even through her coat (and thank the gods for her coat, she can only image what damage those claws would have caused on tender, unprotected skin!).
After he falls the ground, Noah takes a couple more strides forward before turning, wide-eyed still, to watch him change, almost too fast to keep track of. Slowly, she backs away to give him more space, and the part of her that takes inventory of her injuries considers leaving him that way. He certainly wouldn’t be able to steal her home if he can’t hold a shape for more than a heartbeat or two – but in the end, she thinks of her father and the respect he had instilled in her for the disease-magic, and she knows she can’t do that to anyone. Noah closes her eyes and makes sure that the infection will burn itself out in a few more minutes. Perhaps just the knowledge of what she could do will get him to back off.
If she was anyone else, an anthrax infection could be a serious problem – fatal, even. But not at a speed to affect a battle. A cutaneous anthrax infection is, after all, the least harmful of the anthrax infections; nevermind the fact that naturally occurring anthrax can take - even at its fastest - one to seven days to start causing symptoms. Even if he regains some control over the spores he has multiplied into and doesn’t have to pull all of his own particles back together for the next shift, it will take time for Noah’s body to react to the infection. To be sure, Aodhan <i>has</i> infected her, but it will be an unpleasant surprise for the future, not a factor in today’s battle.
Noah is just deciding to bite the bullet and land when suddenly there is weight again, faint but perceptible, between her shoulder blades. She banks hard to the side, the airborne equivalent of a spook, and stumbles the landing, a sharp pain in her left foreleg letting her know she’s not going to come out unscathed from this encounter. But it holds her weight as she spooks again, on four legs this time, when he becomes something heavier, something <i>grabby</i>. Noah can’t see him, still on her back, but she knows where he is as something pulls hard against her mane. She spins to the right, protecting her left foreleg as much as possible, and the momentum helps eventually throw him off the left side, minimizing but not eliminating the time that cat-Aodhan has to scratch at her shoulder and neck. Noah squeals in frustration while she moves, irritated by the sharp lines his claws score in her flesh, even through her coat (and thank the gods for her coat, she can only image what damage those claws would have caused on tender, unprotected skin!).
After he falls the ground, Noah takes a couple more strides forward before turning, wide-eyed still, to watch him change, almost too fast to keep track of. Slowly, she backs away to give him more space, and the part of her that takes inventory of her injuries considers leaving him that way. He certainly wouldn’t be able to steal her home if he can’t hold a shape for more than a heartbeat or two – but in the end, she thinks of her father and the respect he had instilled in her for the disease-magic, and she knows she can’t do that to anyone. Noah closes her eyes and makes sure that the infection will burn itself out in a few more minutes. Perhaps just the knowledge of what she could do will get him to back off.
Noah is just deciding to bite the bullet and land when suddenly there is weight again, faint but perceptible, between her shoulder blades. She banks hard to the side, the airborne equivalent of a spook, and stumbles the landing, a sharp pain in her left foreleg letting her know she’s not going to come out unscathed from this encounter. But it holds her weight as she spooks again, on four legs this time, when he becomes something heavier, something <i>grabby</i>. Noah can’t see him, still on her back, but she knows where he is as something pulls hard against her mane. She spins to the right, protecting her left foreleg as much as possible, and the momentum helps eventually throw him off the left side, minimizing but not eliminating the time that cat-Aodhan has to scratch at her shoulder and neck. Noah squeals in frustration while she moves, irritated by the sharp lines his claws score in her flesh, even through her coat (and thank the gods for her coat, she can only image what damage those claws would have caused on tender, unprotected skin!).
After he falls the ground, Noah takes a couple more strides forward before turning, wide-eyed still, to watch him change, almost too fast to keep track of. Slowly, she backs away to give him more space, and the part of her that takes inventory of her injuries considers leaving him that way. He certainly wouldn’t be able to steal her home if he can’t hold a shape for more than a heartbeat or two – but in the end, she thinks of her father and the respect he had instilled in her for the disease-magic, and she knows she can’t do that to anyone. Noah closes her eyes and makes sure that the infection will burn itself out in a few more minutes. Perhaps just the knowledge of what she could do will get him to back off.
If she was anyone else, an anthrax infection could be a serious problem – fatal, even. But not at a speed to affect a battle. A cutaneous anthrax infection is, after all, the least harmful of the anthrax infections; nevermind the fact that naturally occurring anthrax can take - even at its fastest - one to seven days to start causing symptoms. Even if he regains some control over the spores he has multiplied into and doesn’t have to pull all of his own particles back together for the next shift, it will take time for Noah’s body to react to the infection. To be sure, Aodhan <i>has</i> infected her, but it will be an unpleasant surprise for the future, not a factor in today’s battle.
Noah is just deciding to bite the bullet and land when suddenly there is weight again, faint but perceptible, between her shoulder blades. She banks hard to the side, the airborne equivalent of a spook, and stumbles the landing, a sharp pain in her left foreleg letting her know she’s not going to come out unscathed from this encounter. But it holds her weight as she spooks again, on four legs this time, when he becomes something heavier, something <i>grabby</i>. Noah can’t see him, still on her back, but she knows where he is as something pulls hard against her mane. She spins to the right, protecting her left foreleg as much as possible, and the momentum helps eventually throw him off the left side, minimizing but not eliminating the time that cat-Aodhan has to scratch at her shoulder and neck. Noah squeals in frustration while she moves, irritated by the sharp lines his claws score in her flesh, even through her coat (and thank the gods for her coat, she can only image what damage those claws would have caused on tender, unprotected skin!).
After he falls the ground, Noah takes a couple more strides forward before turning, wide-eyed still, to watch him change, almost too fast to keep track of. Slowly, she backs away to give him more space, and the part of her that takes inventory of her injuries considers leaving him that way. He certainly wouldn’t be able to steal her home if he can’t hold a shape for more than a heartbeat or two – but in the end, she thinks of her father and the respect he had instilled in her for the disease-magic, and she knows she can’t do that to anyone. Noah closes her eyes and makes sure that the infection will burn itself out in a few more minutes. Perhaps just the knowledge of what she could do will get him to back off.