Maea
My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb
The tiger stiffened. Shifting back to the dark-clad woman, Maea pushed herself up to sit. Blood clung to her face and hands, soaking through the velvet at her wrists until her skin was as red as the lining of the skirts that pooled around her. She painted a pretty picture, but the expression on her face couldn't hide the depth of her discomfort.
"I'd... rather not be part of that," she told the woman, hot in the face and not quite able to look at her. "Sorry. So far it's been interesting. I just... don't do the pleasure thing." Not her own, and certainly not someone else's. Rising to her feet she wiped at the blood on her face and turned to leave the circle of fire. She would remove herself, and let the priestess carry on with whatever she wished.
"I'd... rather not be part of that," she told the woman, hot in the face and not quite able to look at her. "Sorry. So far it's been interesting. I just... don't do the pleasure thing." Not her own, and certainly not someone else's. Rising to her feet she wiped at the blood on her face and turned to leave the circle of fire. She would remove herself, and let the priestess carry on with whatever she wished.
And I remember thinking — I want to be like them
