Maeve
Why would you make out of words
A cage for your own bird?
A cage for your own bird?
Part of her feels guilty for the hell they unleash upon the beast. It doesn't stand a chance with Deimos there. If it had only been her and Aidon it would perhaps have been more of a fight, but the tiger barely has a chance to lash out at her whip before it's laying in a burnt heap at their feet. Maeve drew a shaky breath, adrenaline coursing through her veins and prickling across her skin. Her hands are trembling as she extinguished her whip, coiling it back up to hook it to her hip, daring to take a step forward.
The question from the Sword earned him a nod as she took one more breath, centering herself and attempting to dismiss her nerves as she drew closer, curiosity urging her to examine the slain beast. "I'm okay.. I've never seen one of them in person before." Maeve knelt, brows knitting together as her head cocked to the side. She unsheathed her dagger, using the tip of it to lift the creature's lip, exposing a still intact took that she pried from its maw.
The question from the Sword earned him a nod as she took one more breath, centering herself and attempting to dismiss her nerves as she drew closer, curiosity urging her to examine the slain beast. "I'm okay.. I've never seen one of them in person before." Maeve knelt, brows knitting together as her head cocked to the side. She unsheathed her dagger, using the tip of it to lift the creature's lip, exposing a still intact took that she pried from its maw.
When it sings so sweet
The screaming, heaving fuckery of the world?
The screaming, heaving fuckery of the world?
