Theea
know this ain't for the weak
or for hate, it's for soul
or for hate, it's for soul
Damien is pressed in beside me, and I give him a sharp nod, a flit of a smile. His presence is steadying and yet...
I miss.
The blade whistles through stink and shadow and hits nothing but cold air. Shame flares hot—bright, useless—and anger snaps right after it. I brace to take the hit and slash back—
—but Deimos’s power rips the air and the big one buckles mid-lunge, dead before I can react. There's no time to decide if I'm grateful or frustrated. The other one is already moving.
It launches like a hurled boulder, all rancid fur and teeth in the same breath that one clamps down on Damien. I throw my sword arm up to cover my face and try to cut across its line, but it slams into me, jaws locking on my forearm. Cloth tears; flesh parts. White fire streaks up the limb as chisel-teeth grind down, hunting bone.
“Shit—!”
I reel back into the pillar, the creature’s screech tearing in my ear like ripping canvas. I wrench my arm, trying to keep its teeth from setting deeper, and my free hand drops to the weight at my hip. I rip the dagger free and drive it up hard, aiming for the soft seam under its jaw—the hot, wet place where a throat gives—trying to jam the point deep enough to make it let go.
Theea uses her dagger to try to stab ROU 1 in the throat!
I miss.
The blade whistles through stink and shadow and hits nothing but cold air. Shame flares hot—bright, useless—and anger snaps right after it. I brace to take the hit and slash back—
—but Deimos’s power rips the air and the big one buckles mid-lunge, dead before I can react. There's no time to decide if I'm grateful or frustrated. The other one is already moving.
It launches like a hurled boulder, all rancid fur and teeth in the same breath that one clamps down on Damien. I throw my sword arm up to cover my face and try to cut across its line, but it slams into me, jaws locking on my forearm. Cloth tears; flesh parts. White fire streaks up the limb as chisel-teeth grind down, hunting bone.
“Shit—!”
I reel back into the pillar, the creature’s screech tearing in my ear like ripping canvas. I wrench my arm, trying to keep its teeth from setting deeper, and my free hand drops to the weight at my hip. I rip the dagger free and drive it up hard, aiming for the soft seam under its jaw—the hot, wet place where a throat gives—trying to jam the point deep enough to make it let go.
Theea uses her dagger to try to stab ROU 1 in the throat!
tell them to retreat
cause they ain't even close
cause they ain't even close
