[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=ForestGreen][center]Ayita Dyrkin[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
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[center] [b][color=ForestGreen]Location[/color][/b] Hanson Power Plant
{"Who let the wolf out? I did."}[/center]
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Ayita had watched Quicksilver go, her ears perked with glee that one was down. It was good news! Well, until a cool [color=Red] [i]"Looks like we have more than one," [/i] [/color] issued from before her little hiding place. Her mousy heart wept with terror as a cold snarl worked its way onto her little mouse face. Her sharp little teeth bared in a growl at the woman. That was absolutely not ferocious in the slightest. Claws scrambling to hold onto something, anything in reach. Yet allowing herself to be pulled into the open, bit by bit.  Ayita was mentally disgusted with this form. Ready to discard it for one far more fitting of her current mood and predicament. However, caution advised her to remain small and insignificant for now. Not wanting to engage so quickly. Biding her time was a ageless and effective tactic she found.

As soon as Starkette had fallen into the power plant form the window and the Scarlett wench had looked away towards the source of the noise. Ayita shifted her focus. Literally. Her mousey ears became fuller, pointed. Her snarl became something that put fear into the heart of man for centuries. Claws became black and clacked on the ground as she switched from scrambling backwards to lunging forward in a sure thrust. Or attempted to. Her wolven form far more fitted to the attack than the defensive secrets a mouse would keep. Her fur was a dark brown mixed with russet and her growl was purely feral. There would be no mercy, Ayita growled along with the wolf. There would be no holding back from the kill if there was a option. Mercy was something that got people killed. She lunged against the powers that held her her jaws opening to attempt to close upon the witch's arm. Ayita's intent was to pull her off balance, possibly down. Her legs were strong with running and her muscles hard with flight and fight. When down, her mental eyes closed in final agreement with her instincts. The throat. the stomach, the hamstring. Weak points that would keep the woman down. Possibly kill-! Ayita stamped on the instinct. Hunt, She growled at herself. Hunt and hold. Do not kill! Do not devour! Hold! Maim if it was necessary, but hold!