Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
She studied and perused, soft breaths floating from her lungs, a rendering of brows furrowed, gaze narrowed, blood pulsing in the wicked contortions of a hunt. Though she had no Attuned connections or abilities, the girl was only too alive and well to understand the notions of carnivore’s instinct; been turned over too many other times in her devilish, demolishing discord to not feel the rush of insurgency. Then Sunjata’s presence confirmed the animal before them was what they sought; and she remained quiet, muted, methodical (for once) in her approach.
Only a swift nod indicated her pursuits. And then, of course, everything else thereafter.
The girl continued in her crouch, raising the bow quietly, lining up her sights, her vision, listening to the crackle of the energy, the electricity, flowing through the arrow. Tension taught, calloused fingers pressed and arm at the ready, she released the munition, permitting the snapping, sparking armaments to sizzle and seethe through the air, attempting to land amidst the animal’s frame.
Only a swift nod indicated her pursuits. And then, of course, everything else thereafter.
The girl continued in her crouch, raising the bow quietly, lining up her sights, her vision, listening to the crackle of the energy, the electricity, flowing through the arrow. Tension taught, calloused fingers pressed and arm at the ready, she released the munition, permitting the snapping, sparking armaments to sizzle and seethe through the air, attempting to land amidst the animal’s frame.
Melita
