PHOEBE
With his training used against her, even in all her rage and pure instinct, Phoebe was no match for Jata. Her feet, in just small slip on shoes - nothing that suited the weather - slipped against the snow and she fell with a shout. Pure white snow was smudged with black as her face pressed into it. For a moment she felt like she was drowning, suffocating, nose and mouth shoved into the snow and Jata's full weight pressed down upon her. Panic. She cried out and thrashed, twisting and clawing, gasping for air as she tried to escape from beneath him. Pim felt her panic and was quick to land roaring at Jata loudly. He began to charge...
But pulled to a stop. As feral as he was and felt, he still recognized this man - he had given him food regularly for a time. And Phoebe had carved out herself a small hole and wasn't in so much of a panic about breathing as she had been. And so the dragonling paused, even as Phoebe thrashing and cried out against the man atop her, before roaring at him fiercely, lightning playing around his silvery teeth.
But pulled to a stop. As feral as he was and felt, he still recognized this man - he had given him food regularly for a time. And Phoebe had carved out herself a small hole and wasn't in so much of a panic about breathing as she had been. And so the dragonling paused, even as Phoebe thrashing and cried out against the man atop her, before roaring at him fiercely, lightning playing around his silvery teeth.
When dark creeps in and eats the light
Bury your fears on sorry night
For in the winter's darkest hours
Comes the feasting of the Vours
No one can see it, the life they stole
Your body's here but not your soul
