Zamora stood at attention, her white pelt gleaming in the brilliant mid-morning sun. The young female had taken great care with her appearance today. She'd made sure every inch of her fur was in place, that there was no sand or mud on her toes or tail, and that her muzzle was scrubbed clean of breakfast. The hoops in her right ear glitter when she moved, and the brilliant purple cloth she had won fair and square in a game of Shell and Rock added a nice bit of color to her.
Keeping her crimson gaze straight ahead she waited stalk still, no matter how much she wanted to wiggle with excitement. She'd been waiting all her young life for this day, when she would finally meet the Pirate King and show that she was as good as any grabby pawed male. Her mother was, she was too, and Zamora would rather give herself to the sea gods then end up a prideal wench. The very idea made her stomach turn with contempt.
She stopped her thought right there, she'd made it this far, and the long awaited meeting that Torin had promised her when she was just a tiny cub and had blackmailed him was now here. She wouldn't fail him and more importantly, she damn well wouldn't fail herself.
