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Apache Outlaw promptly squealed, a sound Kaitriona never heard come from her equine companion before. A short piercing eeee! came from the Warmblood, followed by a harsh snort and backing up profusely when out of the foliage emerged a canine on four legs, tail flagged high behind. Kaitriona herself was caught off guard by such a sight, not witnessing a four-legged Lupus since departing from the Aleutian Islands back North. This one was a large one, covered in an ebony cape, with the rest of his underside and limbs drowning out in a mottled agouti. His eyes flicked a brilliant green, such a green intensified by the sheer size of the Lupus before her. Kaitriona always thought there was no Optime, not even a Secui, out there that could possess the strength and captivation of a true Lupus.
Lupus-like individuals were her ultimate weakness, her bitter frustration, and her utter fascination all rolled into one. She possessed the ability to shift on a whim now that the virus adapted to the rest of her DNA, but her Lupus form had been untouched since her infection and bloodletting of allowing Luperci Verto to take over her. Glazing over at the powerful male Lupus before her, his sight was bewildering. Magnificent. The definition of their true ancestry. Kaitriona had this too at one point, sorely taken away from her too quickly. The bitter reveries began to flood in, but the male's deep voice broke through her abstraction.
It appeared Apache Outlaw was just as unsettled as she was at the appearance of this Lupus. Not even noticing the avian that soared overhead, Kaitriona was immensely fixed upon the male before her. In a deep voice his tongue muttered something entirely foreign, unable to decipher. It was unknown whether her was trying to greet her, or say something else entirely (the phrase came out mutual at best to her). Her grip tightened on the bloodied knife she held, suddenly exasperated a four-legger like him surprised her and her companion. This frustrated her along with losing track of the Wapiti. "What?" Kaitriona said sharply, her vexation cracking in her voice. The taste of blood was still strong on her tongue, giving her a natural high and edge.
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