[ that's certainly some colorful language, shijima thinks, but her perception of language shifts along with her body. meowing, shiratama butts her head against his shins and steps away, dainty and arrogant at the same time.
even in this form, her white fur is stained with flakes of red. it'll come off, at least. she she darts away a few feet, only to lie down in the snow and roll around briskly, smearing away some of the dried blood.
it leaves red smears on the snow, of course, but any DNA testing will be inconclusive unless police suspect international crime.
she sits back up, licking her fur quietly, and sighs. or at least, she seems to, shoulders lowering for a moment before she stands up and walks back over to stand at matthew's feet, looking up expectantly. ]
no subject
even in this form, her white fur is stained with flakes of red. it'll come off, at least. she she darts away a few feet, only to lie down in the snow and roll around briskly, smearing away some of the dried blood.
it leaves red smears on the snow, of course, but any DNA testing will be inconclusive unless police suspect international crime.
she sits back up, licking her fur quietly, and sighs. or at least, she seems to, shoulders lowering for a moment before she stands up and walks back over to stand at matthew's feet, looking up expectantly. ]