@Canvas @ CornixElecti @Burnmoon @ElveraBasilisk @slothtoast @blackcosmos @Jenkow @SeiryuuJanaisha @Dragonofyang @mimikkyu
Seren perched inside her top floor room, it was larger than many of the rooms and held everything she could possibly need, from a stove, to books to a bed, but she never used much of it. She spent most of her time in the rest of the manor. She did many a things around the mansion but one of her jobs was to teach the much younger creatures how to successfully glamour. She had heard Maisandae slithering around earlier, she should be close to the bottom floor soon.
Seren sighed and dropped her own glamour, to her eye there was not much difference, only that she seemed to glow slightly. Her glow use to be stronger, when she was at full strength. Seren walked over to the over stuffed bookshelves where she kept all her books and yanked on out. She flipped the pages and paced her rooms while reading up on some Norse God named 'Loki' to distract her from the lightning that crackled outside her walls, Gods how I hate lightning.... she thought.
Feyre sat in her leather chair, her left hand idly rubbing the soft, old leather, her right holding a pen that sat on her knees. She was curled up on the large chair, her feet on one arm, her back on the other. She was staring out the window at the storm, marveling at it. She wondered what it would be like to wield natural powers such at lightning. She snapped out of her daze when she heard a low rumble, not quite like thunder, How odd.... her thoughts slowly turned towards Rhys, the resident Barghest. Feyre blushed slightly before crinkling her face into a scowl. He shouldn't be out of his room... If Meisandae caught him.... her heart skipped a beat.
Feyre set down her pen and paper and stalked across the room. Once she was a few steps away she realized how loud she was as a human, "Ah da** me..." she thought. If she shifted now it wouldn't be too strange, in the confines of her room she often practiced her shifting, she often found by morning most of her strength and magic had returned. Feyre knelt on the ground, palms flat on the floor, before she started shifting she opened her door slightly, just enough to push it open when she no longer had opposable thumbs.
Feyre closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, steeling herself against the pain she knew would flow into her body, setting every nerve on fire. She clenched her teeth as she felt her muscles, bones, organs, everything change. Her nose and mouth pushed forward and rounded, her palms and heels stretched, her tail bone poked from her lower back and her pale hair grew out long and thick. After several excruciating minutes of pain and popping, Feyre looking up, her feline pupils dilated after the shift. She felt the pain leave her body as she padded forward, steps silent. She pawed at the door and shoved her muscle into the crack of the door. Feyre slipped from her room and grabbed the door knob in her mouth, closing it to a crack. She sniffed and followed the scent towards Rhys. He smelled, oddly enough, like citrus to Feyre, she could never figure out why.
Seren perched inside her top floor room, it was larger than many of the rooms and held everything she could possibly need, from a stove, to books to a bed, but she never used much of it. She spent most of her time in the rest of the manor. She did many a things around the mansion but one of her jobs was to teach the much younger creatures how to successfully glamour. She had heard Maisandae slithering around earlier, she should be close to the bottom floor soon.
Seren sighed and dropped her own glamour, to her eye there was not much difference, only that she seemed to glow slightly. Her glow use to be stronger, when she was at full strength. Seren walked over to the over stuffed bookshelves where she kept all her books and yanked on out. She flipped the pages and paced her rooms while reading up on some Norse God named 'Loki' to distract her from the lightning that crackled outside her walls, Gods how I hate lightning.... she thought.
Feyre sat in her leather chair, her left hand idly rubbing the soft, old leather, her right holding a pen that sat on her knees. She was curled up on the large chair, her feet on one arm, her back on the other. She was staring out the window at the storm, marveling at it. She wondered what it would be like to wield natural powers such at lightning. She snapped out of her daze when she heard a low rumble, not quite like thunder, How odd.... her thoughts slowly turned towards Rhys, the resident Barghest. Feyre blushed slightly before crinkling her face into a scowl. He shouldn't be out of his room... If Meisandae caught him.... her heart skipped a beat.
Feyre set down her pen and paper and stalked across the room. Once she was a few steps away she realized how loud she was as a human, "Ah da** me..." she thought. If she shifted now it wouldn't be too strange, in the confines of her room she often practiced her shifting, she often found by morning most of her strength and magic had returned. Feyre knelt on the ground, palms flat on the floor, before she started shifting she opened her door slightly, just enough to push it open when she no longer had opposable thumbs.
Feyre closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, steeling herself against the pain she knew would flow into her body, setting every nerve on fire. She clenched her teeth as she felt her muscles, bones, organs, everything change. Her nose and mouth pushed forward and rounded, her palms and heels stretched, her tail bone poked from her lower back and her pale hair grew out long and thick. After several excruciating minutes of pain and popping, Feyre looking up, her feline pupils dilated after the shift. She felt the pain leave her body as she padded forward, steps silent. She pawed at the door and shoved her muscle into the crack of the door. Feyre slipped from her room and grabbed the door knob in her mouth, closing it to a crack. She sniffed and followed the scent towards Rhys. He smelled, oddly enough, like citrus to Feyre, she could never figure out why.
