Paws and tail too big, and each rib visible under fur, but certainly a pard, if lighter than those he knew in color. At the trace of a strange power she shivered, hauling her slipped paw back under herself and gold eyes seeking out his through the leaves.

It felt...strange. Like singing too low to quite catch, and it made her fut puff a touch, but it did get a questioning chirrup at least, and a different, high, wild sense probing back on sheer instinct. Had she found bloodkin somehow? Or an olden mage that might aid against the hunter?