If I don't find you, we've got new problems. Like figuring out why the Hunt evacuated my body.
Really, she'd be concerned if she couldn't pick up Erin's trail and find her within the hour. She knows her scent so well by now it's as simple as breathing to catch it on the air and follow it slowly through the ship.
It's a slow, easy Hunt. Familiar, in many ways—there were nights like this, with women in bars that she drew in until she could have them in bathrooms or dark corners or alleyways. Less so, in others—nights that ended with the rare monster that got fucked up against a wall instead of having her throat ripped out, those were always faster, trickier.
Half of the time it ultimately takes her to catch up to her at the bar in Bobby's is drawn out deliberately for the sake of letting anticipation build—in herself, as much as in Erin. It's coiled tight like a spring in her gut, when she draws up behind Erin and nips at her ear, letting hot breath tickle skin as she speaks:
"Three choices," she hums, a low and rumbling sound, as an arm slinks around so she can shamelessly grope at one of Erin's breasts through her clothes, "against the bar, behind the bar, or a nice shadowy corner in the back."
let it be known i rolled 'more risky' for this
If I don't find you, we've got new problems. Like figuring out why the Hunt evacuated my body.
Really, she'd be concerned if she couldn't pick up Erin's trail and find her within the hour. She knows her scent so well by now it's as simple as breathing to catch it on the air and follow it slowly through the ship.
It's a slow, easy Hunt. Familiar, in many ways—there were nights like this, with women in bars that she drew in until she could have them in bathrooms or dark corners or alleyways. Less so, in others—nights that ended with the rare monster that got fucked up against a wall instead of having her throat ripped out, those were always faster, trickier.
Half of the time it ultimately takes her to catch up to her at the bar in Bobby's is drawn out deliberately for the sake of letting anticipation build—in herself, as much as in Erin. It's coiled tight like a spring in her gut, when she draws up behind Erin and nips at her ear, letting hot breath tickle skin as she speaks:
"Three choices," she hums, a low and rumbling sound, as an arm slinks around so she can shamelessly grope at one of Erin's breasts through her clothes, "against the bar, behind the bar, or a nice shadowy corner in the back."