Iskra
This world is a wasteland, nothing can grow
Attention flicks to the wolf as it delivers its warning, and Iskra is keen to heed it, about to turn and continue off down the street when the door clicks. Like an invitation, the sound bids Iskra to remain, to look upon the face for which he can dump all the blame of his fear. With each step Sah descends, the more gnarled Iskra's features grow, until he's akin to the snarling wolf, features drawn taut with searing anger.
"SAAAAH!" Iskra shouts in response, still unable to keep his volume low, not that he would at this moment. He steps forward and reaches up to grab the man's collar and hoist him down to even ground. "YOU!" he roars, an accusing finger leering towards Sah. "YOU KILLED MELITA," the accusation is anything but. It's truth, a reminder, and promise of pain as it leaves Iskra's curled lips.
That pointing finger curls into a fist and Iskra swings it towards Sah's face, every bit of his irrational fury angling behind the motion, aiming for the most harm. "YOU. WILL. PAY."
1/4
"SAAAAH!" Iskra shouts in response, still unable to keep his volume low, not that he would at this moment. He steps forward and reaches up to grab the man's collar and hoist him down to even ground. "YOU!" he roars, an accusing finger leering towards Sah. "YOU KILLED MELITA," the accusation is anything but. It's truth, a reminder, and promise of pain as it leaves Iskra's curled lips.
That pointing finger curls into a fist and Iskra swings it towards Sah's face, every bit of his irrational fury angling behind the motion, aiming for the most harm. "YOU. WILL. PAY."
1/4
I used to have strength, but I ran out of hope
