Aistaraina gave a low growl as she walked into the Shrine, her eyes hard. She was walking rapidly, her claws [which were sharpened to the point where she could easily carve into wood without any effort] clicking against the floor. The only thing that could be heard from her were low murmurs of anger."This is just ridiculous," she said angrily. "All I did was agree to the performance. I didn't realize when it was, how close it was, or what it would entail. Honestly. Do they think I'm a psychic or something?" she asked as she turned to look back at her companion, who was following at what some would classify as a safe distance.
The Battlefield Werecain would have doubtless been high-ranking in her clan, had she been in one; for her body was covered in many intricate markings all over her body. Her golden eyes were alight with a dangerous fire as she looked around the place, her eyes far more piercing than any blade [or even her claws] could ever be.
Voronwë gave a slight shrug as he re-attached the bone charm to his necklace. He did not know why he chose to hang out with Aistaraina, but he did. When he did catch up to her, he brushed back his plumage and spoke."Aista, darling, you have to remember. They are just concerned for your greater good. I have to say that I, myself, am a bit leery of you accepting the gig."
"I know that, Voro; but I couldn't help it! It's not every day that the Lambastia Symphony asks a student to perform with them!" Aistaraina said, her eyes filling with tears as she whipped her bladed tails from side to side angrily.
"Now, now, meleth, there's no need to explode like that..." Voronwë said, gently placing his clawed hand on Aistaraina's shoulder.
[1.1][1.1]
*meleth = love
