11-19-2018, 04:18 PM
She clawed nimbly up onto the bank, ignorant of the damp mud that slicked her clothes in the process. It wasn’t like she’d dressed up for the concert anyway, a destination mostly forgotten. The stink of the fetid water wasn’t a pleasant smell, but by now her focus had shifted and wolfish instincts took over. Her ears pricked forward, content to let Jacinda take the lead. That was normal for them; a natural evolution of the time they had spent together.
There was a familiar scent amongst the chaos, though no time to process it. Her eyes scanned the horizon for shadows against the moonlight, the tang of blood like a siren call in the back of her throat. A dangerous song, sometimes. But no voices called. The silence was deafening.
By now the one who had been dropped had regained her feet, clearly aware of her company in the dark. Jacinda appeared to suspect a civilian, but Tenzin quickly found disagreement with the assumption; her scent was calm, focused, soldier-like. Which did not necessarily mean an Athari sister, but certainly meant someone quite able to take care of themselves.
And Tenzin certainly didn’t want to get shot in the process of trying to help.
Her mouth twitched a frown. Even in this light, she knew she could see better than any of the others. She could take that shot into the ditch. But asking for the weapon was unlikely to go down well, and explaining that uncanny marksmanship would only invite awkward questions.
For now she placed her trust in Jacinda and the stranger with their only gun, eyes vigilantly skyward, alert.
There was a familiar scent amongst the chaos, though no time to process it. Her eyes scanned the horizon for shadows against the moonlight, the tang of blood like a siren call in the back of her throat. A dangerous song, sometimes. But no voices called. The silence was deafening.
By now the one who had been dropped had regained her feet, clearly aware of her company in the dark. Jacinda appeared to suspect a civilian, but Tenzin quickly found disagreement with the assumption; her scent was calm, focused, soldier-like. Which did not necessarily mean an Athari sister, but certainly meant someone quite able to take care of themselves.
And Tenzin certainly didn’t want to get shot in the process of trying to help.
Her mouth twitched a frown. Even in this light, she knew she could see better than any of the others. She could take that shot into the ditch. But asking for the weapon was unlikely to go down well, and explaining that uncanny marksmanship would only invite awkward questions.
For now she placed her trust in Jacinda and the stranger with their only gun, eyes vigilantly skyward, alert.