Gently down the stream!

The bottle comes to a slow, yet certain stop. Pointing just to the left of me, it seems Cilla is it’s choice for presenting their abilities; much to the chagrin of some, and jubilation if others.

“Teacher! Teacher! The very bestest creature!” Sings Sammy, wiggling her way back to her seat.

“Oh Sammy, please…” Whispers Cilla before clearing her throat, and rummaging through her enchanted cloak for yet more notes.

She from reads them like a machine; speaking with a matter of fact tone, and with no emotive properties to her form of speech. “My name is Priscilla Crosswell: age forty-one. I am five’two, weighing in at two-hundred-thirty pounds of compact musculature, bone, and exoskeletal flesh. I am of the cursed Worgenfaust race, but I was once a Half-Elf. I have the Ranger evolution: Researcher, Tier II; and the Sorcerer evolution: Shapeshifter, Tier III…”

“Slow down! Is this on the test?” Says Ashes, picking a finger through her ears in jest.

“I love tests!” Says a certain slime. “I always check-“

“All the boxes, we know.” I say, putting my hand on my handler’s shoulder. “Maybe a little less…”

“Boring?” Says Klyde, seemingly half asleep.

“Official? Says Scott, checking his watch.

Ignoring us, our fluffy friend continues. “I can use any longbow, crossbow, or auto-crossbow currently in supply from the Runacathy, as well as blades ranging from shortswords, to simple knives; however, I prefer to use my claws in melee combat…”

“Is she always like this?” The Earthling asks Gabbie.

“Yes.” She replies, smiling wistfully through gritted teeth; as though trying to contain an internal scream of anguished boredom.

The rest of our talking being just white-noise to her, Cilla continues. “My spells range from a utility spell for memorization, and another for quick assessment of information; to four transformation spells, two of which are mostly cosmetic. One is my true appearance, the other is the form you see before you; a form I am more comfortable with, as it is closer to my original self, and tempers my… urges.”

Cilla finished her presentation with a bow; as if this were some sort of briefing to a superior at the Runacathies.

“What are your other forms?” I ask, having only seen one other.

Ashes, likewise, asks. “True appearance? Could we…”

The beastly woman huffs, puffing her cheeks and looking away in disdain. “They are very taxing to preform, and no; I will not show them… The name of my transformations should be enough. True Form, Elf Form, Cat Form, and Hare Form.”

“Ooh! You can be a cat?!” Says Zana; beaming with excitement. “Or a bunny!?”

“Absolutely not!” Says an indignant Prissy. “They are powerful battle-forms, capable of cutting men and monsters in half, or shattering their bones with a single kick!”

Ashes snickers, barely holding in tears of laughter-fueled joy. “Do you grow a cat tail? Bunny ears!?”

“…Yes… sh-shut up and spin the bottle…”