The cat was unrelenting in its advance on the Tiefling despite the cherry-hot fingers burning into the fur and flesh of its muzzle. Black, acrid smoke rose from its features and the Tiefling let out a small scream of both fear as teeth snapped at her throat just below her jaw and –barely- missed. She was terrified, black eyes wide and fixated on the maw of razor-sharp teeth that was no doubt going to spell out her doom. How could her life come to this when she was so young? She’d hardly even begun to find love and barely had even experienced lust at that. Her life flashed before her eyes when the cat reared back its head once more and let out an angry growl with its maw of deadly teeth bared once more. This was surely the strike that would end her, throat torn and mangled by a vicious cat that would just show no sign of relenting despite the pain her fingers must have caused it.<br/><br/>Thankfully in the instant it had almost bore her to the ground and began to feast at the flesh of her delicate neck the full weight of her companion pushed it from her, leaving the Tiefling stunned and out of breath as she watched the elf fight the cat with courage.  Her heart fluttered in her chest, beating against her ribs and she wanted to cry out in empathy when the cats massive paws batted at her and cheer each and every time she , with the grace of a dancer, simply sprang away from the surely mortal strikes that would have been. For some reason she was also still scared though not for herself. The abyssal blooded woman was scared for Tyl’ra and for the life of her she could not determine why.<br/><br/>This was confirmed when one of those weight paws slammed into the elf’s side and the hidden claws within raked into the desert dweller’s flesh as if though the hardened leather armor she wore were no more than parchment under the sharpest of razors. Blood flowed fresh and the sight made the ragged-looking sigilite go pale as a wraith.  Had the strike been mortal? Would her companion bleed out before they could find aid? Before she could even finish processing the action however it was over, the elf had leapt upon the tiger with dagger in hand and shoved the small blade into the beast’s throat up to the hilt. It let out a whimper and fell with a dull thud that could be felt a short distance away. The cat was clever however, as the elf turned to scold her companion and nurse her words its eyes once more opened and they were burning with hunger and now anger.<br/><br/>A loud roar sounded behind Tyl’ra and in an instant the supposedly mortally wounded beast was upon the desert dweller in a fury despite its sides and back being laid open by the deadly bite of the woman’s carrakal’s and the dagger jutting out of its throat. Nisha’s heart leapt to her throat and in a burst of courage borne from the very real fear of seeing the only woman she knew on Athas being mained or killed. No, this beast wasn't going to take the elf from her, they may have had their differences but something about the elf compelled her to do what she did next. She charged forward, shouldering her companion out of the way with her full weight. The move was just in time, claws that would have dug into Tyl’ras back now dug into Nisha’s shoulders as the beast bore her to the ground and drove the air from her lungs with its weight. Each claw felt like a dagger digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders and she could feel the blood already welling up from the wounds and ruining the black silk of her shirt but despite all of this she was no so scared as when she had thought it would have been Tyl’ra it would have took from her.<br/><br/>Its head closed in on her throat but it never got the change to close its great jowls around her throat. A brilliant, red hot cone of fire leapt forth from the tiefling’s hands and in an instant the wounded beast’s face was reduced to charred flesh and bone. There were no cries of pain or whimpers this time, it only slumped forward into the woman as dead as it should have been the first time. Letting out an annoyed grunt Nisha rolled most of the beast’s dead weight off of herself though she didn’t get up from the ground just yet. Her raven hair was matted with dirt and leaves from the tossle and her shirt was utterly ruined. The shoulders were shredded from the beasts claws and what hadn’t been touched by the natural daggers had been soaked through by the blood welling up from the mercifully clean cuts. She was tired, scared and wounded but she looked over to Tyl’ra and grinned a little before wincing when she tried to move her shoulder.<span style="color: blue"> “ I’ll listen next time. Promise.” </span>Her voice was a hoarse whisper from the loud scream she'd let loose earlier, her heart still beating hard against her ribcage.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>