A Dead Wolf Tells No Tales [P]
03-12-2013, 02:19 PM
Although pain was shooting through her shoulder at this point, SwiftKill didn't care: until the male who called himself Diabolitio spoke up. "Regardless of 'ow ye feel, learn your place kid." The words were harsh, and the yearling's audits pricked in interest as she stopped for a moment. The brute WAS speaking through clenched teeth now: it seemed that he actually liked Destruction. Not that it would matter to her. If Destruction knew, the brute would be dead within a few days. And there would be nothing he could do about it. Destruction is horrible, now that I think about- Thoughts were broke off as SwiftKill was hurled into the air. The yearling landed into the ground nearby, without being able to stop what Destruction was doing. She WAS weak. And to think, all this time, she was strong. But she wasn't strong. Not at all. Why had she thought she was? Pain and sadness overwhelmed the yearling, but only for a few moments. After all, she still had a battle to tend to. But the pain in her shoulder was overwhelming, and Destruction was waiting for her next move. Grunting in pain, she struggled up, glaring at Destruction as she did so. It wasn't enough to seem too threatening, but it might have been enough to warn Destruction. Then her leg trembled. The next thing SwiftKill knew, she was looking up to glare at Destruction. Speech, |