[ Ninat is almost twenty feet long, given the length of her tail, and as high as a horse. She has the vague shape of a cat, but dwarfs anything alive by a wide margin. Yet, despite having the shape of a cat, nothing else adds up--certainly not the leathery, mottled skin, or the glowing tendrils she has for whiskers, and definitely not the rock-hard crest that extends from her nose down the back of her neck like a built-in bludgeon. She glows in the dark, and her belly reflects the light of the fire.
In her tremendous jaws she holds Gin's cake, boxed and wrapped in a cloth for transport. To her credit, it is completely unblemished, and she lowers it delicately to the ground.
Ninat doesn't see Gin, really, and out of the water her sense of smell is a fraction of itself. Instead she sense the rapid pulses of his nervous system as he scrambles away, like lightning shooting through his body. Like fireworks.
How entertaining!
She moves forward, past the cake, and opens her mouth--surely nothing so catlike should have so very many shark-like teeth--and picks up his bokuto. He dropped it, silly human. She should return it!
She's padding in his direction now, the wooden sword in her mouth. ]
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In her tremendous jaws she holds Gin's cake, boxed and wrapped in a cloth for transport. To her credit, it is completely unblemished, and she lowers it delicately to the ground.
Ninat doesn't see Gin, really, and out of the water her sense of smell is a fraction of itself. Instead she sense the rapid pulses of his nervous system as he scrambles away, like lightning shooting through his body. Like fireworks.
How entertaining!
She moves forward, past the cake, and opens her mouth--surely nothing so catlike should have so very many shark-like teeth--and picks up his bokuto. He dropped it, silly human. She should return it!
She's padding in his direction now, the wooden sword in her mouth. ]
Min-altirak means....'feline-shark'?