Although Elise herself didn’t move, there was a low growl from the Veranda where Moltar had been lounging. Hissabelle was laying by the oathbreaker’s now abandoned lounge chair, her tail lashing as she glared - if a big cat could glare - at the lithe elvish bard.
“Is that beast feral? Why is it looking at me like that?” Fifi frowned at the cougar, glaring right on back at her. Hissabelle snorted, and licked at her paw, feigning complacency.
Elise’s jaw and right hand had clenched, but the sound of her animal companion’s displeasure had jogged her to her senses. The big cat had a tendency to reflect her master’s feelings, after all. Hissabelle was the closest thing Elise had ever known to having a part of her soul walking around on its own; sometimes, like in this moment when the cat reve
