you don't tap out

Ears still ringing, Iscariot moves from the fray. Her job was done, now it's up to the rest of the Syndicate fighters to do theirs. Fuck, why did it hurt this badly? Both bats returning to her shoulders, where they'd rest until dusk, their displeasure at being out in the daylight mimicked Riot's own.

Moving to the water's edge, drawing to the edge of the Sound, Iscariot lowers her still bleeding muzzle. No telling what blood in the water would attract, but she'll be fine in the shallows. Washing out the wound, feeling the sting of the saltwater and the cool breeze, it's enough to ground her. As the adrenaline drained from her system, every part of the girl is starting to hurt.

Even if she wasn't fighting for her life this time, the raid had stirred up feelings Riot would prefer to keep buried. Put down, sealed away in a box. For as much as the girl wants to seal herself away too... no. No, she'd pretend that she's fine, as she scrubbed the dirt from the wound. Face first, before carefully lowering her hindquarters into the not-too-deep water. Going for the back was fighting dirty, jackasses.

"Iscariot"