into the pit | open, drunken scrap

" REFLECTIONS IN THE WAVES SPARK MY MEMORY! "

The ocelot had been right, he wouldn't have been able to hear her otherwise. Taking a moment to mull over her words, his blue eyes darting in the woman's direction before he slowly gave a dip of his head. He also had no idea as to why this creature was here, but he didn't have knowledge of who or what he was and what importance he had to where he came from.

Pulled from his reverie by the burning of split flesh and fresh blood, blue eyes affixed themselves on the tom on the ground so far below. Breath stuttering in his chest as he raised his paw to his chest, a few sparkly blue scales loosened from their hold on his chest, strands of blonde fur falling with them to the ground below. Lips curling back in a frustrated silent snarl and a lash of his tail, the siren would lower his head to the tom as he ignored the stinging slashes to his chest. Gently as he could despite his annoyance, the siren would grasp Cory's scruff and pick him up (powerplaying here, permission given above) casting a look at Rosemary. What was he supposed to do now? Did they have a place to hold the man from the swamps? What was he supposed to do?

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