A low, annoyed growl rumbles in the throat of the Therian woman as she stares into the eyes of her own reflection.
Hair slightly damp and chest heaving, she pulls her lips back into a visible snarl; sharp teeth glistening in the steamy air of the washroom.
“No...” -
“O-okay, but uh… Why?” He asks in response.
“We’re going to need it.” Tari responds as she reaches out to tightly grasp the front of Caine’s coat.
“Because we’re doing that again.” She rasps.
(End)