The coldest blood runs through my veins
Her straining wings slowed the fall enough that the impact didn't kill her outright. Despite that, she was knocked senseless against the wet rocks, and like a spell that had broken the dragon was gone, leaving only a small, pale fragment of a woman where the monster should have been. Black skirts grew sodden and dragged at her when the waves lapped them, torn at a shoulder that bled profusely. Staining her moon-bright hair red. Trickling into the water. Summoning the beasts of the deep to the impending feast.
Ah, but she couldn't die here. Death was not an option. She needed to go home. Needed to return to the one who waited for her - who would always wait for her -
She scrabbled weakly for a purchase, not even feeling how her nails broke and tore against the stone. It wasn't important. All she could think of, all she knew, was that the sea wasn't allowed to claim her.
Ah, but she couldn't die here. Death was not an option. She needed to go home. Needed to return to the one who waited for her - who would always wait for her -
She scrabbled weakly for a purchase, not even feeling how her nails broke and tore against the stone. It wasn't important. All she could think of, all she knew, was that the sea wasn't allowed to claim her.
You know my name
Table by Skylark
