NATASHA
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The macaque sauntered into the meeting thankful for her elk cloak. Though she controlled her facial expression with ease, her emotions occasionally betrayed her by fluffing out her fur. She felt the hair raising along her back and throat against the elkskin, but she was confident her cloak protected her emotions. After all, she’d tailored it herself.
She sat with the Coalition. Though the Typhoon and Tanglewoods seemed more interested in reopening their fresh wounds, she’d seen disputes where lower ranked monkeys, appearing at the wrong place at the wrong time, took violence that was intended for someone else.
Her time in these mixed-species groups didn’t dissuade her from fearing the hierarchies of felines and canines shared that behavior.
Natasha’s amber eyes fluttered between the two opposing clans. One hand found a rock, and she forced herself to drop it and keep both hands still. Fidgeting only broadcasted fear—but stars was it a difficult habit to break, her fingers itched for needle and thread to busy themselves with. She sighed and massaged her temples, as if this whole thing was annoying instead of terrifying.
She looked up and turned her head to Josiah. How interesting that he would want to be the center of attention during such tension as this. Was he brave or stupid?
“What is The Covenant?” She glanced at Sorbet, trying to decipher what that brief interaction between Josiah and the Quartermaster had been about. “You don’t strike me as a vassal for those pirates.”
She sat with the Coalition. Though the Typhoon and Tanglewoods seemed more interested in reopening their fresh wounds, she’d seen disputes where lower ranked monkeys, appearing at the wrong place at the wrong time, took violence that was intended for someone else.
Her time in these mixed-species groups didn’t dissuade her from fearing the hierarchies of felines and canines shared that behavior.
Natasha’s amber eyes fluttered between the two opposing clans. One hand found a rock, and she forced herself to drop it and keep both hands still. Fidgeting only broadcasted fear—but stars was it a difficult habit to break, her fingers itched for needle and thread to busy themselves with. She sighed and massaged her temples, as if this whole thing was annoying instead of terrifying.
She looked up and turned her head to Josiah. How interesting that he would want to be the center of attention during such tension as this. Was he brave or stupid?
“What is The Covenant?” She glanced at Sorbet, trying to decipher what that brief interaction between Josiah and the Quartermaster had been about. “You don’t strike me as a vassal for those pirates.”
macaque - she/her - wears red elk cloak
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