bleed me your despair

The witch felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in her abdomen. Tension grew in her face and limbs, her mind replaying the last moments of her Mother. Her breathing became more rapid, more shallow. In these moments before her personal hurricane, she understood Ashmedai, the alcoholic...one would do anything to stop the primal surge to flee. The panic starts out as thin cellophane, something her claws can pierce breathing holes in. In another minute the panic was a deluge of ice water surrounding every limb, creeping higher until it passes her pretty maw and snout. Yet the panic attack did not become absolute, it did not shut her body down as fast as punching a biochemical reset button though the witch did felt like she was having a heart attack in the moment. And that all thanks to this fine specimen of a woman that leaned her bodice into her, grounding her and at the same time managed to make the witch feel safe. I need to get them out. I cannot have them. her words where merely above a whisper, softness of a cloud; violet gems rose towards the ashen queen, locking their gaze together for what felt like eternity. Not long ago I scented something, someone, many. she sighed, shifting her position fore her busy tail to engulf them both, tip falling on her swelled abdomen. A pack. Could not be far from here by the strenght of the scent. Maybe they have a healer that can help. she mouthed the words with trembling, ebon lips, unaware if they came out as audible. When her words failed her, when she saw so much more than can ever be explained, that sense of compassion for the ashen queen hit her in a nanosecond. That's when her emotional intelligence, maybe for the fourth time in her life, leaped far beyond that which speech can ever accomplish. That's when she felt safe with another yet she decided right that instant that this was not Leera journey, she needed to go and search for what she scented alone. Leera has done enough, proved more than enough and as the witch calmed down even further in her warm embrace she could not help the thought of failing in front of the woman in the back of her mind. The score was now 1-0 in favor of Leera, yet she did not minded at all. You had any or are you... the witch eyebrow arched in question as the word barren never left her lips.

Speech