A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL, A DEAL WITH ME! // Patrol, intruder attack

[adventure.]

THE TEARS THAT I SHED ARE
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack

the sounds of combat drew her from her near stupor, the woman launching to her feet from where she rested by one of the outpost towers, teeth bared and a snarl building in her chest. she'd been napping in the shade, her nights filled with chores for the group. paws digging into the hot sands, she would vault from her resting spot to reach kold's side in time to watch the lioness book it, the smell of burning fur filling her nose and turning her stomach. shit.

casting her gaze to kold, taking in the marauder's state, rumbling at her, "yo, kold. you doing okay??", she asked softly, checking the marauder over for injuries visible to the eye. did they have anyone who knew how to handle injuries? she only knew the basic shit, picked up from the typhoon years ago when she'd been brought to them with injuries delivered by rabid animals, their own unsure of how to treat her. she didn't want to see that happen again, causing her to feel concern towards kold's state despite only recently returning to the public face of the pitt.

MEANT TO DAMN YOU TO ETERNAL HELL.
ramona lingré of the pitt. -- borzoi.

credit @/teef