( what does ranulf hear, but heavy footsteps behind him? a noise that has his fur stand up on end, his ears and tail still as he tries to feel the air; it's his gut feeling, his sense of danger that causes him to try to feel what or who may have approached. there's a familiar presence accompanied by the scent of something easily recognized... the combination of which makes him wonder if he should prepare for the worst.
he may not have enough time to do so, though, and he takes one long breath. his shoulders rise and fall, a sense of a numbing calm draped across his back like a second pelt. he could feel his nerves uncoiling as a familiar building of energy prepares him for a shift if necessary, to defend himself. he wouldn't start a fight he couldn't end.
so who he believes he sees as he turns is the main reason why his internal planning goes to sudden and utter chaos. it's not who he expects, as both eyes widen. it's a dragon, of course. he would've easily mistaken the winged being as someone from goldoa. ranulf is now very happy that his claws remain inside; no way he could take on a black dragon by himself. he'd be one roasted cat.
...
but it's also...
he looks different. not just a laguz, but something more? not something less. more imposing, more feral, halfway to some other kind of creature that isn't laguz at all. his tail twitches in irritation, eyes flickering from the fangs to the wings to the scales, to the...
...
it has soren's voice. his breath is stolen from him, he's been winded without being struck, and then he plunges into the water as the ice shatters beneath him, his concentration broken. with an audible gasp of air, ranulf claws his way back to the thin sliver of shore and immediately rolls onto his back. )
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he may not have enough time to do so, though, and he takes one long breath. his shoulders rise and fall, a sense of a numbing calm draped across his back like a second pelt. he could feel his nerves uncoiling as a familiar building of energy prepares him for a shift if necessary, to defend himself. he wouldn't start a fight he couldn't end.
so who he believes he sees as he turns is the main reason why his internal planning goes to sudden and utter chaos. it's not who he expects, as both eyes widen. it's a dragon, of course. he would've easily mistaken the winged being as someone from goldoa. ranulf is now very happy that his claws remain inside; no way he could take on a black dragon by himself. he'd be one roasted cat.
...
but it's also...
he looks different. not just a laguz, but something more? not something less. more imposing, more feral, halfway to some other kind of creature that isn't laguz at all. his tail twitches in irritation, eyes flickering from the fangs to the wings to the scales, to the...
...
it has soren's voice. his breath is stolen from him, he's been winded without being struck, and then he plunges into the water as the ice shatters beneath him, his concentration broken. with an audible gasp of air, ranulf claws his way back to the thin sliver of shore and immediately rolls onto his back. )
Second time... I'm starting to really hate water.
( he stares up, looking at soren upside-down. )
Yeah. It's me. And you're you... right?