flora
The hiss of frost still lingers like a warning in the air when Flora skids to a halt at the mouth of the alley.
The scene hits hard and clear: Spice, small but blazing with defiance, wings arched like twin scythes of silvered glass. Damien, taller than anything else in the cramped space, hatchet gleaming, voice like gravel flung against steel. And between them—no, behind them, backed into a corner with wide, trembling eyes—Aria.
Flora doesn’t move closer, not when instincts are coiled so tightly the whole alley crackles with them. One wrong step and it might all shatter. Instead, she stands just at the threshold, breath held, her shadow slipping long across the boards behind her. Aqua eyes scan the frozen mess of it all, the sharp angle of Damien’s shoulders, the lurch of Spice’s chest as the dragon inhales.
And the dog? It hesitates. Gaunt, grease-slick, its ribs showing like drawn knives beneath patchy fur. It eyes Damien, eyes the blade. Weighs hunger against hurt with all the brutal simplicity of something that’s survived too long on nothing. It doesn’t see power or pity. Only obstacles.
Then it lunges.
Hackles up, claws scraping for traction across the frost, it darts low and fast; head down, mouth open, aiming straight between Damien’s legs. Not stupid. Just desperate.
The scene hits hard and clear: Spice, small but blazing with defiance, wings arched like twin scythes of silvered glass. Damien, taller than anything else in the cramped space, hatchet gleaming, voice like gravel flung against steel. And between them—no, behind them, backed into a corner with wide, trembling eyes—Aria.
Flora doesn’t move closer, not when instincts are coiled so tightly the whole alley crackles with them. One wrong step and it might all shatter. Instead, she stands just at the threshold, breath held, her shadow slipping long across the boards behind her. Aqua eyes scan the frozen mess of it all, the sharp angle of Damien’s shoulders, the lurch of Spice’s chest as the dragon inhales.
And the dog? It hesitates. Gaunt, grease-slick, its ribs showing like drawn knives beneath patchy fur. It eyes Damien, eyes the blade. Weighs hunger against hurt with all the brutal simplicity of something that’s survived too long on nothing. It doesn’t see power or pity. Only obstacles.
Then it lunges.
Hackles up, claws scraping for traction across the frost, it darts low and fast; head down, mouth open, aiming straight between Damien’s legs. Not stupid. Just desperate.
We need love, But all we want is danger
We team up, Then switch sides like a record changer
We team up, Then switch sides like a record changer
