girls can be dangerous and still win
The fiery skull of brimstone and terror filled her features with glee; even if they appeared a little more ghoulish by its eerie incandescence. Very pleased, she gave him a grin full of teeth and mischief, only tilting her head innocently and giving off a faux, pretensive measure of confusion at his statement. “Going to haunt my ass. My, my. What a threat,” and then she laughed, dipping another chip and taking another sip of her drink, trying to meander back into what her story had been, now purposefully digging deeper into the potentials.
“Rumors spread like wildfire. What was going on? Were the girls being kidnapped? Slain? Running away? Stories passed in gossipy sewing circles and on and on to neighbors alike. Eventually, some were afraid to attend anything in public. But still, life went on, and more festivals came and went.” She took a little breath, watched as a pegasus interrupted briefly, high along a platform overhead through trees and gardens, and then took flight half a moment later. “One girl, by the name of,” and if Iskra caught her darting her eyes all around for some semblance of a clue, he could ignore it, thank you very much, “Violet, was braver than the rest. She thought she could walk around. Get some clues. Find something.” She made a walking motion with her fingers, as if the youth in the story was tiptoeing around the outskirts of the humble village. “One day she decided she’d check out the supposed haunted house.”
Leaning in closer towards him, she then only grabbed another taco for her plate. “Before she could though, her father called to her. He’d returned from his recent trip to the next town, and had all sorts of stories and wares for her to see. Before long, she forgot about her motivations, and the winter celebration was on.” She waggled her brows but persisted, intending to get to a juicier part of the story. “The dance was uneasy, of course, what with the disappearances. But her father intended to take a new wife, and they needed to put in an appearance. By the end of the night, he’d settled upon one of the ladies in attendance, Calla. And once she had her alone, Calla warned Violet to flee. To go, and never return.”
“Rumors spread like wildfire. What was going on? Were the girls being kidnapped? Slain? Running away? Stories passed in gossipy sewing circles and on and on to neighbors alike. Eventually, some were afraid to attend anything in public. But still, life went on, and more festivals came and went.” She took a little breath, watched as a pegasus interrupted briefly, high along a platform overhead through trees and gardens, and then took flight half a moment later. “One girl, by the name of,” and if Iskra caught her darting her eyes all around for some semblance of a clue, he could ignore it, thank you very much, “Violet, was braver than the rest. She thought she could walk around. Get some clues. Find something.” She made a walking motion with her fingers, as if the youth in the story was tiptoeing around the outskirts of the humble village. “One day she decided she’d check out the supposed haunted house.”
Leaning in closer towards him, she then only grabbed another taco for her plate. “Before she could though, her father called to her. He’d returned from his recent trip to the next town, and had all sorts of stories and wares for her to see. Before long, she forgot about her motivations, and the winter celebration was on.” She waggled her brows but persisted, intending to get to a juicier part of the story. “The dance was uneasy, of course, what with the disappearances. But her father intended to take a new wife, and they needed to put in an appearance. By the end of the night, he’d settled upon one of the ladies in attendance, Calla. And once she had her alone, Calla warned Violet to flee. To go, and never return.”
Melita
she knew exactly what she was doing when she invited the wild in
