[ Whisky hisses loud and angry as the tendrils tighten, though obviously that gets strained as air flow gets restricted, and his claws curl and tear into more tendrils even as his legs get somewhat more restrained; he can kick with them, try to free himself of the shadowy pieces but his main effort is trying to bear down into the mass ]
[Yes, good. Keep struggling toward that center. Look at that soft sleeping face dangling so close now.
Shreds of hair are still falling and tangling around them, but the tendrils that have already caught Whiskey curl tighter nonetheless. And, more than that, the blue eyes dotting those thick locks of hair roll and blink shut -- and open again as oblong mouths lined with white fangs. Time to start chewing.]
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Shreds of hair are still falling and tangling around them, but the tendrils that have already caught Whiskey curl tighter nonetheless. And, more than that, the blue eyes dotting those thick locks of hair roll and blink shut -- and open again as oblong mouths lined with white fangs. Time to start chewing.]