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![[Image: CamillePostBit.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/CamillePostBit.gif)
SKILL : WARRIOR ( 2 / 5 )
A voice met her ears and her gaze shifted, snapping toward the source and finding a split mask in wait of her sight. Automatically, her lip rose; her features were marred with a ferocity she could not find the source of. It lingered in her blood stream like a plague, assimilating until it felt as though it had become a part of her. Each breath only fueled it and the guttural snarl that ripped from her throat, accenting the gnash of her jaws in the stranger's direction, came from the deepest, more primal recesses of herself.
She was not dissuaded by their size difference - it mattered not. Camille had teeth just as he, and she had weathered her share of altercations. If she couldn't touch their weight class, she always found other means to come out the victor.
She, and any other orphan who dotted the streets, had done whatever was needed to survive. Sometimes it required a push, a shove, a coin purse loosened by a makeshift blade - sometimes it even meant physical blows over the scraps of sustenance or shelter she managed to find.
However, she couldn't remember a time when she'd been bitten. The searing pain spread across her shoulder and the side of her throat, besieging the musculature that lay in their intersection. It would hurt like hell later as it healed, she acknowledged distantly, but it really fucking hurt now.
Her jaws arced wide as she swung them in a blind rage, attempting to latch onto any part of Ashkii that she could reach. He might have gotten first blood, but she would make him pay for the privilege.
Va te faire enculer ,she warned, her hackles twitching before the silky fur began to arc.
Avant de te faire.
She was not dissuaded by their size difference - it mattered not. Camille had teeth just as he, and she had weathered her share of altercations. If she couldn't touch their weight class, she always found other means to come out the victor.
She, and any other orphan who dotted the streets, had done whatever was needed to survive. Sometimes it required a push, a shove, a coin purse loosened by a makeshift blade - sometimes it even meant physical blows over the scraps of sustenance or shelter she managed to find.
However, she couldn't remember a time when she'd been bitten. The searing pain spread across her shoulder and the side of her throat, besieging the musculature that lay in their intersection. It would hurt like hell later as it healed, she acknowledged distantly, but it really fucking hurt now.
Her jaws arced wide as she swung them in a blind rage, attempting to latch onto any part of Ashkii that she could reach. He might have gotten first blood, but she would make him pay for the privilege.