Re: Carriage House: Atticus M/Raven P
[The sound that came from the back of her throat was almost more suited to her winged self, a sort of gurgle that was accompanied by a back and forth rock of her head against his knee. She knew that PJ was also wolf and that Steve wasn't. There was a scent that she could identify when she was shifted, something sharp laced with the earth. It was the same sort of way that she smelled of chilled updrafts even when she was human. It would likely fade if she ever stopped shifting, and that made her think of Newt and the different things he offered to try to learn the secrets that her past held and how they affected her present.
She resettled herself when Atticus slouched more, her eyes still on the sky. It was still dark, but she could just make out the beginning lightening of false dawn low between the trees. A sigh that pressed her ribs against his leg for a moment, and then and murmur gravel of her voice combined with the quiet sounds of the last moments of night. It took a bit to solidify into a song, melancholy and in another language. Her voice never raised in volume and never quite smoothed into anything pretty, even sometimes missing the notes that should have come next. But the emotion of it was there as she sang the words.]