Unfortunately, the wolf-man's thinking had been correct; as her hands skittered over the loose soil and intermittent grass underneath her, she found nothing but the most rotten of twigs and the tiniest pebbles. She could always fling a handful of dirt into his face, but then she'd be forced to race once more, and her breathing was still ragged from her run. True, she was soft and slightly rounded around the edges; she had a trim figure from sporadic hunger at home, but she had never been particularly muscular, and it didn't take much physical expertise to wield a needle and sew a gown. Shifting into different shapes gave her different muscles, but her stamina could only be increased by actual training, and it was far too dangerous in Connlaoth to let out that she was a shifter. She'd be dead in a week.
Still, the predator sauntered closer; reflexively, Mariella drew the cloak farther up her body, slender white hands clutching the fabric against the delicate curve of shoulder and throat. She was pretty as a picture, all slender fineness and tiny fragility like a fine porcelain plate - and just as easy to break. Her eyes were wide and golden-amber, the color of smooth scotch but not nearly as intoxicating. If only she had the charm that her sister had had - she'd have a way out in a moment, she knew! But there was no help there - she was too skinny, too little, to be much enticement for any man, and so she'd have to rely on her wits - which were, admittedly, a little fried from her second close encounter with death.
"Okay, see, you're wrong there. I didn't mean to jab my foot into your side. And I live here!" She had all of the indignance of a self-assured teenager - as the favored daughter, surely she had to be right? Of course, she really hadn't meant to kick the man - well, he'd looked much more like a boy then, but it wasn't her fault she'd come to the wrong place at the wrong time. Which, frankly, seemed to be a recurring theme whenever she shifted. If she was unnerved by his command for entertainment, she certainly didn't show it - Mariella was a witty thing, she could be entertaining when she wanted.
"What do you mean, not like you? I thought you were like me. See?" Again, she paused, not daring to close her eyes but focusing intently. Once against, ginger fur the same strawberry shade as her hair sprouted along her body; the canine teeth grew longer, but she kept her jaw carefully a normal length. Pointed ears sprouted from her ears, a thin wagging tail snaked along underneath her. She seemed almost to elongate: arms a little longer, little thinner, while her torso and legs mimicked the gesture. Her eyes stayed the same amber shade, but they took on a more feral shape. Overall, compared to the wolf-man, she was certainly a far more cute, almost Pekignese-y looking half-shifter. "See? I can do that, too. Do you mean you can't change into... well, anything?" She was tempted to shift again, but stopped short before she did anything that might threaten her. As entertaining as this all might be, she was still in danger.
"I don't know how I do this. It just happens. Well, I mean.." Her furry face scrunched up a bit, as though concentrating. "I mean, I can control it, usually, though I can't always hold onto a form if I'm really scared or hurt or something." At her words, she froze, then narrowed her eyes slightly. "You're not going to hurt me to see how long I can hold this, are you? Because that wouldn't be exactly, you know, cool." Even though she was clearly a high-strung person, she seemed almost innocently sweet; even her skepticism had an air of country naivete about it.
