This was all such utter bullshit, she thought angrily, shifting into a mink as soon as she noticed she was in bullshit rainy land. It was even raining here, as if the sky wished to match her mood.
The whole were thing had it's perks - she adored darting about so low to the ground and being as vicious as she pleased. No one looked twice towards a mink savaging some thing or the other. But the drawback was immense, so much so that Preacher felt possibly even more secluded than before. She wanted friends, but wanted to make them under her own power. The pack touch felt like an invasion of her mind and she had no idea why it only afflicted the moonwalkers. As far as she knew, nobles and wargs didn't deal with this.So why the ******** did it have to be so? It weighed heavily on her mind as she darted through buildings and down alleyways in bullshit land. Fitting.
ashdown
rp guild for the community "ashdown"
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