Mommy, it's all coming apart...
#4
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That’s find with me~ And sorry for the wait! OnO I was busy all day. I hope it’s okay if she nearly catches up with him? – slight pp with it. PM me with anything you want changed/played out differently, ^=^
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He saw here. Those yellow eyes turned to behold her and she saw not Brennt but the more threatening predator. The warrior’s body shifted, although she appeared to be still. It was those silent, imperceptible changes of stance and of mind that prepared her for an attack. Her senses grew alert, those white eyes sharpening as they focused only upon that single wolf, placing everything in her peripheral. The tail waved silently behind her, brushing away the needless tension that always built up before a fight. There would be a fight—or perhaps not today but another day—she could feel it in the air. The intensity of her gaze was unwavering as she met that gaze with silent challenge and calculation. She knew, as she had told Dawali, that he learned quickly. Already, their first battle differed greatly from their second. And fighting him now, if she failed to kill him, would be dangerous. Perhaps she would not make it out alive this time, or perhaps the next time. But the warrior did not fear death, nor did she fear this male.


And then he ran. The black fae pursued him immediately, her body thrown into action through the graveyard. But he already had the head start, and the predator was not a slow creature. Her eyes were quick as they watched his form ahead, her footing able to avoid obstacles that sought to send her tumbling. And falling in this place of stone was dangerous. Those sharp edges, like the hooves of deer, could shatter her body, leaving her unable to follow, vulnerable, and perhaps even dead. A quiet growl grew from her woad bound maw, her face only partially distorted by that sound. Why did he run, the woman thought. She did not smell fear—it did not quite exist, at least in the way of that true and intoxicating emotion. With her wounds healed and her muscles loosened by her diligent practicing, she followed suit. The woman had learned a thing or two since their last battle as well.


While the predator was fast, the woman was smaller, her body more agile. She could weave in and out of those tombstones with great agility, her feet quick with practice and with the familiarity of her own body. The woman took a different path, anticipating that which the predator would take next. While she did not catch him, the warrior had placed herself within a more comfortable proximity. Her jaws lowered, snapping in the air, attempting to catch his legs, to rip the tendons that allowed his feet to function. The warrior would not take mercy upon this creature any longer—that time was over. He was merely an enemy. As warrior, that was all he was to her now. The woad marked fae growled, challenging him. Turn and face me. His tail was in closer reach, she decided. With his scent thick in the air, the running she-wolf snapped at that appendage, seeking at least to stop him, to force him around.

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