Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
“That was better!” She announced; a broad Cheshire grin following in the firelight. Selecting another from her token pile, the honeybee extracted a larger rock, figuring Hadama could match strength for strength this time. “Okay, more power this time!”
A warning, as she did exactly that.
Curling her arm back, the youth snagged at the muscles coiled along her biceps, long since honed for effective maneuvering and plunging. Though she was lean and curled mostly for speed and precision, not many could deny she was a strong, determined, lithe little thing – and even if they did, she’d prove them otherwise in a matter of moments.
So the rock went sailing, hurtling, with both dominion, strength, and swiftness.
A warning, as she did exactly that.
Curling her arm back, the youth snagged at the muscles coiled along her biceps, long since honed for effective maneuvering and plunging. Though she was lean and curled mostly for speed and precision, not many could deny she was a strong, determined, lithe little thing – and even if they did, she’d prove them otherwise in a matter of moments.
So the rock went sailing, hurtling, with both dominion, strength, and swiftness.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
