[ P ] Girl in red

[Strong language]

"Sshhhit," she hissed as she waded into the shallows. The cuts and scrapes along her legs stung like a bitch as the saltwater cleaned them, but it had to be done. She wasn't about to get an infection from wounds dealt by filthy sets of claws and teeth. It had happened once before, and she'd learned her lesson.

Calista drew in a slow breath and closed her eyes, bracing herself as she dipped her face and part of her throat into the water as well. She wanted to be thorough, but—"Fuck, that hurts," she snarled to herself as she reeled back, shaking herself dry. She backpedaled until she was on dry land again, her paws sinking into damp sand.

It was ironic that she was always so eager to throw herself into a fight, but never wanted to deal with the aftermath. Though, to be fair, the alcohol had numbed the pain last night. There was nothing left of it now. Nothing but a dull ache between her eyes.

With a heavy sigh, Calista retreated to a dry, sun-warmed rock along the shore. She stretched her sore muscles before flopping onto her belly, shifting her hips to one side and splaying her legs. Finally, she rested her chin on her paws and relaxed in the sunshine as she waited for her fur to dry.

@Ryker

Ryker Verlice

This was surely far enough away to not being in the buzz of the army happenings. She still had a few hours before her shift was beginning, though she dreaded the recruits that awaited her. Her father was amused with the lack of discipline and focus the new faces had, but he also despised them. Ryker- she couldn't fathom why or how such circumstances didn't frustrate him. And if he was frustrated, he never showed it once in his words or tone.

But now wasn't time for her head to be so cluttered- she was on the sand, in the sun and near the water. Always something worth taking the time to enjoy should she have the chance to do so. She was working fast to move amongst the rocks to be chosen from to lounge on, swift and sure in each step- until she wasn't so sure. One of the rocks were covered in a sea-salty slime from all of the moisture, and her tedious steps were now sporadic as she tried to correct herself. Instead, she continued to slip and eventually, she finally landed- but not on a rocks hard surface. It was.. softer, and damp. Her paws scrambled to find traction, and she awkwardly rolled her body off of whatever she landed on. When she finally found footing to move away, her amethyst hues were frantic to find what she landed on- but it was a who, rather than a what.

Russet and white, and riddle with not so old wounds. Her ears pulled back just slightly. Goodness, I've never been such a clutz, she cooed. There was a more coy tone to her words, waiting first and foremost to gauge the other's reaction.
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