Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
All right, well, that didn’t go the way she’d planned.
Presuming, perhaps prematurely, the mer would be capable of defending against something a little tougher, she noticed through LongNight’s dismal haze that hadn’t been the case. The grunt of pain, and otherwise stoic disposition, had her wrinkling her nose again. “Sorry,” she muttered, mumbling something else relatively incoherent.
One more – selecting one of similar stature, but she wouldn’t be swinging or hurtling or throwing as hard. “This’ll be normal then,” by way of reassurance - perhaps (given her proclivity for vehemence anyway) – and then she wound up, unfurling it from her hand with neither a lob nor an all-mighty toss, laboring somewhere in between.
Presuming, perhaps prematurely, the mer would be capable of defending against something a little tougher, she noticed through LongNight’s dismal haze that hadn’t been the case. The grunt of pain, and otherwise stoic disposition, had her wrinkling her nose again. “Sorry,” she muttered, mumbling something else relatively incoherent.
One more – selecting one of similar stature, but she wouldn’t be swinging or hurtling or throwing as hard. “This’ll be normal then,” by way of reassurance - perhaps (given her proclivity for vehemence anyway) – and then she wound up, unfurling it from her hand with neither a lob nor an all-mighty toss, laboring somewhere in between.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
