[color=00a99d][i]Blood. Oh, she could smell it. Beautiful, rich, blood. Ohhhhh. Someone was unlucky tonight. It wasn't full moon, no. But it was coming, oh yess, it was coming, and that blood, oh, that blood… it just smelled so, sooo good.[/i][/color]
[color=gray]”Oh, my! Looks like you are the [i]bloodiest[/i] of us all.[/color]
Hearing that proved it wasn't only her that was smelling that. 

Glancing round Fate searched for the source of the smell, it was often hard for her to spot blood, it's crimson colour appearing to her the same as many other colours, what she had eventually grasped was the colour 'yellow' to others, but to Fate a large range of her vision was filled with this 'yellow'. That included blood. As she searched she slipped out from behind the bar, before getting grabbed by Wink [@Mokley], who seemed to have returned somewhere in the recent chaos. "You might want to get the hammers out." Fate snorted derisively, [color=00a99d][i]duh![/i][/color] while scowling and showing her rapidly lengthening fangs, the only part she had learnt to morph on it's own without shifting into her full wolfified form. She grinned wolfishly, the sort of blood thirsty grin that made lesser men back down, and back down quick. She didn't wait to see Wink's reaction, but simply swished her hips once, letting the hammers resting there catch the light for a second, before sidling past Wink and following the thread of bloody smell. 
She was practically licking her chops as she traced the smell, ending up practically in the spot she began, just on the other side of the bar, next to Dirion, from whom the tantalizing sent was drifting. 

Her eyes were starting to take on a yellow gleam, not that Fate could see that, and her hands had strayed down to grip the handles of her hammers, letting them slide free from the binding that caught them to her belt. To others, the hammers were heavy enough lifting one with both hands, but Fate was lightly gripping them, one in each hand, having no problems even though the weight was nothing to sneeze at. 

She tensed up, not really willing to make the first move, not yet, but ready to join the fight, hammers flying, when the simmering volcano finally blew its top.