dead poets' society
06-18-2024, 05:38 AM
Cutlass knows he’s a bit bigger than his sister, but she gives as could as she gets, nipping at him in fierce little bites, tail whipping through the air as she uses her paws to deflect against him. she has good instincts, he thinks, ducking one of her flailing paws. with a bit of training, she’ll be a formidable raider. “you’re tough, knight,” he cries, letting his voice rise in panic, trying to emulate a villain tasting defeat, “but i’ve honed my power for centuries.” he’s not entirely sure of that word yet, but it’s pretty sure it means, like, a really really long time. puffing himself up, Cutlass coils his strength and then springs, aiming to tackle Tarius to the ground and pin her.
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