I'm beginning to feel like a Dungeon Dragon

soul forever her own | heart captured by none | warrior for Glorall | no children |

She snarled, pissed at him. She let her fangs draw lined of blood from his neck. Not enough to scar or wound terribly, but enough to hurt. She got in his face, looking ready to rip it off. "Let's get one thing clear. I will get mauled as much as I want, especially if it means my little brother doesn't get eaten!" She snapped, revealing the cause for the fresh wounds. She was extremely protective of her family, and she'd battle one hundred lynxes to keep 'Tau safe and alive. She'd fight anything for her loved ones. Nootau, the teenager she took under her wing as a little brother. Chicky, the shy female she considered a best friend and sister. All her friends, she would fight for.

Except him.

That was what she told herself, so she wouldn't have to deal with her feelings for the bastard. In her subconscious though, she knew she'd fight for him as well if anything attacked him. She rationalized it as wanting to kill him herself. He was her problem, so she got to tear him apart. Only her.

She couldn't understand why he was so put off by her wounds. They were her wounds, he didn't feel any pain. So why was he so caught up in her cuts and scars? It didn't make any sense to her. It didn't occur to her that she was being a bit of a hypocrite. That when her friends had injuries she felt them as her own. She would get angry at herself, mad that she wasn't there to take the blows instead of them. That's what she was there for, after all. Friend, confidant, unwavering ally, wolfen shield. She would use herself to protect them, taking shots that were meant for them or jumping into the fray between them and the attacker.

"And another thing, you have no right to worry about me." She hissed, fur bristling once more, looking like her body was covered in tiny, sharp spikes. Her eyes were blazing now, too angry and rageful to keep flat like good little organs. It looked like azure fire was burning in her sockets, anger brightening and sharpening them. She wouldn't just sit idly by while someone nagged her about sustaining injuries in the protection of someone she loved and worried for her.

She didn't pick up on his movements until he licked her ear. And then she leapt away from him like she'd been burned with battery acid, putting a few feet between them as she snarled, tail once more curling, whipping back and forth. She shot and killed the butterflies that burst in her stomach at the contact, ripping the wings off of them. No. No. She didn't feel this way for him. She wouldn't, she couldn't. "The only reason you're not bleeding out in the dirt is because my sister wouldn't forgive me," She bit out, pacing agitatedly, trying to rein in her need to spill his blood, and trying to quell her body's reactions to him.

Damn her Chicky and her rules for what qualified as cold blood!
_{html by ariel}

Name:
Subject:
Message:

Password To Edit Post: