When Moira attacks him, hissing, unleashing claws, pouncing, the whole nine yards, James is caught off guard even though he should have expected cat-Moira to be just as evil. He wrenches his hand away, probably leaving skin and blood beneath her claws. He clutches his scratched and bloodied hand to his chest, glaring down at her.
"What the hell was that for?" James yells, checking over his skin for big wounds. But he is fine. "Fuck." He bends down to retrieve the clothes he dropped even though he should toss them in the water for that stunt. He looks around, deciding on the stairs on the opposite side of the garden.
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Date: 2014-05-14 07:04 pm (UTC)"What the hell was that for?" James yells, checking over his skin for big wounds. But he is fine. "Fuck." He bends down to retrieve the clothes he dropped even though he should toss them in the water for that stunt. He looks around, deciding on the stairs on the opposite side of the garden.
"Let's go this way," he says scowling.