you stand there shaking by your pew

Ataxia D'Angelo · 05-25-2012, 02:41 PM

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Feel free to pp her letting go if you pull him away. Also, she's being dumb and is probably going to get stabbed again unless one of you distract him.

Word Count → 526

The hair on her back and her nape stood on end. With each step she took, her pulse increased. Fire burned in her veins. Her thoughts were racing, incoherent things that sputtered and told her to kill. Rage propelled her away from Salsola's main group and into the Boreas camp. She was headless of her surroundings or of the enemies that might see her; instinct told her when and where to turn and what to avoid. Ataxia held no concern for her own well being. Her only goal was to see that someone died today. A life for a life; they took her father's, and now she would take theirs.

A shriek pierced the chant of kill, kill repeating in her mind. The hybrid in Seculi form skidded to a halt and turned her head so she could see its source: a pale wolf with its maw wrapped around the arm of a coyote. She gave a low growl at the sight, and rushed forward to make her own attempt on his life. The girl was the smallest of her litter, and certainty not the strongest, but her weight pushing against the pale wolf was enough to make him release his grip. Ataxia's jaws snapped at his legs, tearing bits of fur and skin out before he danced away.

He drew his knife as she approached again. The young hybrid appeared not to notice the piece of metal gleaming in his hands, deeming it irrelevant. "Y-you killed my f-father," Her form was a mass of black and silver fur, shaking with rage. The memory of his death, and of the funeral pyre she had been forced to witness, spurred her on to attack the beasts. Yet her rage was a fickle thing; if she stayed still too long and did not spend it, she might break down and cry. Even so, she wanted the bastards to know their crimes before she tore the limbs from their body.

"DIE." With that, she lunged forward, jaws open and aiming for his legs. Some sense told her that she wasn't strong enough to push him down and rip his throat out, so she sought to disable him first. She felt the knife cut into her back at the same time she tasted blood in her mouth. The sensation shocked her into releasing the man's leg for just a moment.

Ataxia was familiar with pain; her religion required it. She had given herself many scars in an attempt to bring power to her small body, and purify her blood of its wolfish taint. Small at first, but they gradually became larger and more intricate with time. Yet, the pain she experienced from this attack was nothing like the purposeful wounds she'd given herself - even the largest one couldn't compare.

For a brief second she thought she would collapse where she stood, but a fleeting thought of her father and the sight of the knife coming down once again spurred her into action. The hybrid wrapped her jaws around one ankle, and pulled. If she should die, then so be it; she just wanted him to die with her.

Table coding by the Mentors! Image from here.

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