10-07-2012, 12:18 PM
It was almost noon.
Felony, in her halfling form, paused at the edge of the border, two feet from where the marked foliage began. She began to step forward, then stopped; she was in her default shape, her fighting shape. It also might look weird to be traveling on foot next to the young, very fit horse that stood beside her; so she began to straighten up.
Fell's shoulders cracked like they usually did as she stood up on her hind paws. It didn't have anything to do with her shifting, but she had gotten into the habit of popping them as she stretched them back. Imagine Royalty, the tobiano-draft dapple paint next to her, snorted as he usually did when she shifted. He wasn't really her horse; she rode him when she had zero time to shift to either four-legged form (he could go from a standstill to full gallop in a matter of seconds) and for the occasional pleasure ride. She also enjoyed showing him off, as he was downright gorgeous and he knew it. He was also determined to follow Fell to the ends of the earth, since they had stumbled across each other when he was six and still in need of something or someone to follow around.
Felony stood still now, fully in her bipedal form, and put a hand against Royal's big neck. She stood to his left side, stroked his mane for a moment, and let out a quick barking howl to let the occupants of the border know that she was there and had neutral intentions. Royal flinched, but didn't run as he used to. Instead, when she fell silent to wait, he turned his big head and put his nose in Fell's ear, his breath ruffling her mohawked mane.
Felony, in her halfling form, paused at the edge of the border, two feet from where the marked foliage began. She began to step forward, then stopped; she was in her default shape, her fighting shape. It also might look weird to be traveling on foot next to the young, very fit horse that stood beside her; so she began to straighten up.
Fell's shoulders cracked like they usually did as she stood up on her hind paws. It didn't have anything to do with her shifting, but she had gotten into the habit of popping them as she stretched them back. Imagine Royalty, the tobiano-draft dapple paint next to her, snorted as he usually did when she shifted. He wasn't really her horse; she rode him when she had zero time to shift to either four-legged form (he could go from a standstill to full gallop in a matter of seconds) and for the occasional pleasure ride. She also enjoyed showing him off, as he was downright gorgeous and he knew it. He was also determined to follow Fell to the ends of the earth, since they had stumbled across each other when he was six and still in need of something or someone to follow around.
Felony stood still now, fully in her bipedal form, and put a hand against Royal's big neck. She stood to his left side, stroked his mane for a moment, and let out a quick barking howl to let the occupants of the border know that she was there and had neutral intentions. Royal flinched, but didn't run as he used to. Instead, when she fell silent to wait, he turned his big head and put his nose in Fell's ear, his breath ruffling her mohawked mane.