pulling the trigger

[Legacy Kali]

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Could anyone take themselves more seriously than children? Her battle to prove herself, to no one in particular and yet also everyone and everything, paled against a battle to prove not only that one was better than everything but also was capable of doing something about it. The unerring logic of one who had been bred for bloodlust and moulded with just, just enough hatred to allow nothing else to matter in the moment, the defining moment. If it was a photograph, it was a Cartier-Bresson; the assemblage of random-seeming components and miscellaneous scenery ranged artlessly - which was why it was art. A simple action such as the expression of rage between two children on a chilly beach. Framed by perspective, it was no longer insignificant. Until then, there was now. Here was the decisive moment. Not to analyse, not to capture; to live through. She'd challenged the unknown and here was the price, a toll that in dire simplicity was hurtling into her face. Small jaws agape, Legacy could only propel herself upwards to use her relatively sturdy forelegs as defence, clawing and shoving at the unsteady mixture of air and attacker before her. Instinctively, tooth and bone and claw arraying themselves between him and the rest of herself, in a momentary and desperate shield. The danger that throbbed through every vein was hers alone, but there was courage in the thought that maybe just as soon as she survived, then the power would shift. Then they would see, and justly so, exactly what happened to those who thought they could destroy a daughter of Kali.

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