an unfaltering and rasping snarl resonates within the depths of the viper’s larynx, the guttural and manic cacophony vaguely muffled due to her jaws’ current preoccupation.  and her dainty forepaws flex and grapple with the earthy terrain beneath { serrated nails duly skewering the ground } as her miniscule form lurches backward, rump ascended and forelimbs bowed -- purposefully. smoldering vermillion gaze narrows and hardens upon the pitiful target she sought to forcefully sever with slavering and untainted incisors, her nimble physique wrenching backwards one final time before the peeled tree bark yields to her exertion with a gratifying crack! -- sending the sovari babe back with recoil. and a victorious smirk graces the viper’s angelic countenance as she haphazardly discards the trophy at her forepaws before allowing for her underbelly to greet the earth with a soft thud, forelimbs stretching languidly before her diminutive frame and over the ensnared bark in an attempt to grasp before jaws work at further mutilating its rugged surface. yet as diligent pupils register the disconcerting sanguine hue entwined with her own saliva, panic ensues, her facial features contorting with discernible f e a r. “help! help me! i’m dying!” the typically intrepid viper screeches with hysteria as she remembers the blood that had enveloped her father’s deceased victim -- just weeks prior.

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It wasnt until she heard the wails of her younger sibling that she would break from her course. A brow would lift at the dramatic words of her sister. Surely the girl was not dying, or she wouldn't be yelling about it. With a sigh she would seek the girl out, finding her in a heap near a tree. Bark lay at her grey paws, the evidence of her massacre against an unsuspecting tree. I highly doubt you are dying. Verdant gaze swept across her younger sisters form, seeing no signs of imminent death. She would come to stand beside the girl, towering over her much smaller form, it already appeared that the girl would not gain any of their fathers height like Aster had, or herself. Her crown would lower, nostrils quivering, but it was an attempt to better look at the girl. Having a sense of humor, she would inquire about her sisters earlier proclamation. But, why are you dying? She tried not to smile, or laugh for that matter, but it really was funny. Her little sister, the terrorist out of all of them, thought she was dying. It was almost to much to ask that she keep a straight face. The corners of her lips would twitch in a faint smirk.  WORDS HERE

                    minuscule skull hangs as the viper acknowledges her own mortality, lower lip protruding and quivering with unbridled sorrow as she silently mourns the impending loss of her own life. red persistently streams from clenched jaws as a dull pain radiates from lacerated gums, her typically smoldering gaze having been quelled of its flames as tears well within her vermillion eyes -- yet the sovari dare not allow them to fall. and as the diluted cacophony of footfalls breaches the silence of her surroundings, her skull frantically rotates as her pupils dart to locate the perpetrator, dejected stare pinpointing her svelte knight in shining armor: her eldest sibling. gangly appendages shift and extend to bring the viper to her fullest and unimposing apex as she haphazardly pivots in the direction of her nubile sister, agony etched upon her own dainty countenance in the form of arched brows and a creased forehead. “‘santi!” the viper laments { quite overdramatically } before maneuvering into closer proximities to the dauphin, her skull tipped back slightly to regard the woman’s pretty visage. “‘santi, i’m dying!” is the repetitive declaration that greets velveteen lips, amplified due to her increasing panic.

and as her sibling rejects her claims of d e a t h with ease, the viper’s skull shakes with adamant dissent. “no, really! look!” she demands, allowing for her upper lip to unfurl from tiny incisors in an attempt to expose her minor injury to the woman opposite her, concern flaring within her chest cavity as she awaits her sibling’s verdict. “it’s RED! the girl dad hurt was red too, ‘fore she died…” she explains, tears now threatening to stream down the front her pristine visage.

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Her sister would turn before rushing forth to stand before her. The proclamation of death once again fell from the girls dark lips. She would chuckle, even as her younger sister permitted, tiny lips peeling back to expose her teeth and gums. It was then that she would see the source of the problem, but her sister would dive into a brief story before she could speak. While the heiress had not been present for the death of Empyrea, she had found her lifeless body. It was surprising to know that the younger girl had been present at the time of her death, to witness their parents ending the life of a traitor. You aren't dying. You just have a cut, you'll be fine. Words would seek to reassure the pup, despite how funny she found the situation. You would be bleeding a lot more if you were dying. She would comment dryly. Tears would fill her sisters eyes, threading to spill over and wet her cheeks. Leaning down she would press and cool nose to her sisters cheek, a small token of affection towards the girl. WORDS HERE