She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.
They get everyone into the Academy and she is left standing at the doors beside Loren. Damaged is the wrong word for what has happened to the area around the Palace. This is destruction, though not yet carnage. She has only a moment to breathe, and she takes the second to secure the unicorn in her belt, before the thundering at the gates becomes impossible to ignore. They can’t miss what happens. The gates explode inward, and Weaver’s eyes go wide as she turns to look at Loren for a split second before she takes off at a run.
The smart direction would be to run into the Academy, but she can’t do that. No, she runs to the gates, dodging debris as she goes. It takes longer with the wreckage around her, but still she runs. It isn’t until she gets close that she slows, hooking the lantern onto the belt of knives at her waist. It is awkward, but it will do, allowing her to pull the scythe from her back and wield it with both hands. A paltry weapon against the masses of them, but a weapon nonetheless. Between that, and the flickering flame at her hip, hopefully she can help.
****
Weaver runs to the gates, getting ready to fight.
The smart direction would be to run into the Academy, but she can’t do that. No, she runs to the gates, dodging debris as she goes. It takes longer with the wreckage around her, but still she runs. It isn’t until she gets close that she slows, hooking the lantern onto the belt of knives at her waist. It is awkward, but it will do, allowing her to pull the scythe from her back and wield it with both hands. A paltry weapon against the masses of them, but a weapon nonetheless. Between that, and the flickering flame at her hip, hopefully she can help.
****
Weaver runs to the gates, getting ready to fight.
Weaver
