My God, My Tourniquet!
09-29-2018, 09:32 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-21-2018, 11:52 AM by Dea.)
Her face burned with the fury of Hell! That damned she-wolf, she had gotten lucky and landed a good and solid bite across her eye. It swelled now, keeping her watering eye shut, though it didn't keep the tear-like drops from mixing with the blood that ran down the left side of her face. The effect was that she looked to be crying tears of blood out of one eye, and Dea wasn't even completely sure she would be able to see out of it when the swelling went down. The fact that it had been Archon to break up the spat was horrifying enough. He had never seen her act violently, and she wondered how it would make him feel. Funny, she had never worried about consequences before. She ran as far and as fast as she could with only being able to hold one eye open. The whole left side of her face was a bloody mess, not to mention the other minor things that had been added to her collection of scars. It felt as though her face was on fire, and she was still pissed by the time she realized how far she had gone. Noting the rocks forming a circle around her, Dea looked around with an unsure expression on her face. An odd power moved here, and she could feel it with her soul. Dea didn't know she had one of those, but it made sense as it felt as though something moved within her. There was no threat, only that sensation of being watched, which Dea was used to by now. Laying her right side against the cool face of one of the huge boulders, Dea laid the least tender spot on her throbbing head to its surface and tried to relax. She had tried to hold her anger, but the other woman had kept pressing, Dea couldn't even really remember what happened next, she only knew she messed up somehow. For the first time in her entire life, Dea shut her one good eye and began to pray that she hadn't messed things up with Archon. "Please let him still want me with him, even though I cannot control this rage within me. Amen." She finished her prayer and curled tighter to the rock she lay beside, wanting comfort more than forgiveness. Walk, "Talk" Think |
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