Brit and her Punk have arrived! Sorry I'm late, I ended up sick, AGAIN. x.x; I swear to god, I hate being sick.
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For whatever reason, she shoreline was a stupidly alluring attraction to the multi-colored female. She had found herself, on multiple occasions, picking her way along the edge of the water, getting her scrawny ass splashed with a cold spray. The bitter wind and salty air stung the nose and eyes a bit – but Punk imagined, at least she thought she imagined, that she was getting used to the feeling. Who knew? Maybe she would just plunk herself right down and make a home of this place. It was an unusual choice, for her anyway, due to the serious lack of plant life thought.
She couldn't say what perked her fancy on it, but then – maybe she was just getting senile in her old age. Punk imagined that senile suited her sense of humor and personality pretty well (and she was right). She'd get away with even more pranks and diabolical petty jokes than before (not that anyone had ever managed to stop her in the past, not since she was tiny – anyway). Flicking her ears a little she then picked up a sharp scent on the breeze. Looking up, surprised to find another soul out here, she caught sight of something rather unusual.
Werewolf. Blinking once to clear her eyes, thinking to herself that maybe senile wasn't quite her style after all, she decided that this thing was most likely real. She hadn't witnessed a werewolf up close and personal, they were all just rumors; until this point. Approaching with (apparent) ease she girl cocked her head and stared up at the female – currently failing to notice the project she had going, she skipped right to the point. "You're even weirder looking than I am. What happened to you?" Blunt, abrasive, and entirely offensive – Punk definitely hadn't lost her touch yet.
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