"Are you fucking kidding me?" asked a girl's voice. She was covered in black fur and leaning back against tree, while the one-armed young man in front of her had drawn back with a look of surprise.
"The hell is this?" he asked, warily lifting his missing arm.
"Sorry," said Bloodhound. "I'm still looking for Omar."
"Who the fuck is Omar?" asked the girl, whose flesh was rippling as she extended claws, grew fangs, and slid into a more feline configuration.
"We used to be friends," Bloodhound said quickly. "Or rivals. Or something."
"There's no way they don't know you came over the wall," the boy told her, looking her over with an intensity that, while not hostile, was still threatening. "There'll be a team here to intercept you any minute now."
Bloodhound swallowed. "Sorry, sorry. I just--"
"Would you please go away and let us get back to the kissing?" demanded the girl.
"Um. Okay. I'm going. But... your other friend. Would you ask him to meet me outside? Even if none of you know who Omar is..."
"Fine! I'll tell him! But until then, fuck off!" The girl's claws had slid out to an impressive length, and Bloodhound was suddenly unsure that she could actually take her.
"Right. Yes. Going now."
She turned and scurried off until she reached the stone wall, then vaulted over it.
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