even when i was a child
i’ve always known there was something to be frightened of
i’ve always known there was something to be frightened of
He makes no response to the truths she shares - why would he, blind as he is? Of course, she thinks, he doesn't want to acknowledge that it was his precious Mother who cast the blight upon them all; of course he focuses instead on a threat she never made, an action she cannot take.
But she wants to. Oh, how she wants to. Amalia has been a predator since she Attuned, and it is that predatory nature that rises now, like a growl in her throat. She can feel the leopardess clawing within her, telling her to take her own teeth and rip his throat out, to show him how it feels. His is a false life, after all: to end that can hardly be considered to kill. Another step forward in the sand and he's in reach, and how easy would it be to just reach out with claws and fury and crush his heart---
She reaches into the bracer on her wrist. There's a flash of light on metal, and Nova is there, pressed gently but firmly against her brother's throat. Bathed in the red light of the antlers and the glow of her halo, it is not anger that paints Amalia's face. The eyes that search for Sam's are tired, sad, resigned to what must come next. They are hard, but they are mournful - mournful for what could have been, what will never be.
"I will not kill you tonight," Amalia murmurs from behind the blade, "But I won't let you escape justice, either. I am going to bring you before the Queens of Torchline. They may decide what the life you took is worth."
But she wants to. Oh, how she wants to. Amalia has been a predator since she Attuned, and it is that predatory nature that rises now, like a growl in her throat. She can feel the leopardess clawing within her, telling her to take her own teeth and rip his throat out, to show him how it feels. His is a false life, after all: to end that can hardly be considered to kill. Another step forward in the sand and he's in reach, and how easy would it be to just reach out with claws and fury and crush his heart---
She reaches into the bracer on her wrist. There's a flash of light on metal, and Nova is there, pressed gently but firmly against her brother's throat. Bathed in the red light of the antlers and the glow of her halo, it is not anger that paints Amalia's face. The eyes that search for Sam's are tired, sad, resigned to what must come next. They are hard, but they are mournful - mournful for what could have been, what will never be.
"I will not kill you tonight," Amalia murmurs from behind the blade, "But I won't let you escape justice, either. I am going to bring you before the Queens of Torchline. They may decide what the life you took is worth."
