Ostara stretched her arms and legs as she lay on the ground. It was another beautiful day out in the forest overlooking one of the many towns in Jutes. Scratching her sides, she purred contentedly, ears twitching. She didn’t think that humans would have been this fun to be around.
While she had to don a hood and cloak while in the cities for fear of catching a slaver’s wandering eye, out here she could run as free as she wanted to. Ostara feared no brigands or pirates – why would she, when she could snap a man’s spine as easily as a child could snap a heap of brittle twigs? She shot a glance at one of her arms and flexed it, smiling as she did so.
Her ears perked up. Someone was coming this way. With luck, it would be someone who meant no ill will – but these islands were fraught with peril, and even someone as strong as her could meet a hasty end if she ran into the wrong person. Doubly so if they didn’t know what she was; very few people knew what taguel were, and she wagered that the people here that did probably didn’t have her best interests at heart.
Ostara jumped into the bushes and lay there, hidden. Her ears remained raised to scout for any slight noises, and her eyes glared through the foliage to survey the approaching traveler. She didn’t want to ambush anyone, after all, although especially strange-looking individuals would probably warrant her attention.