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08-13-2016, 03:49 AM
Eat me up,
I'm dead inside.
I'm dead inside.
There is something intermittently degrading about being treated like nothing more than a nuisance. The opposing suspect merely flicks her own wiry tail and glowers with vague amusement, features pulled into something akin to incredulity. She's talking again, disparaging Sheba's hopes without hardly a shift of her head. The patchwork girl moves to rise, only to find that she could not. Even as the electrical bird-creature pulls itself into existence, she is helplessly stuck, hind-legs refusing to budge. Her entire back-end was sinking, in fact, with a rather wet finality into the squelching mud of the reef.
Humility is something she is very familiar with and while this strange foal might think the tuck of her nose was in public shame, it came from a much deeper despair than she could possibly imagine. There was a gargantuan level of courage involved taking those first steps of retaliation, Bathsheba was mortally wounded, crippled, and worse - without magic. Helplessness was a part of her daily routine and here she was, sharing jeers and watery blows with a child fully-capable of hurting her if it came to that. Perhaps the real fighting was left to adults, but that did not mean that they as children could not to do plenty of harm in their own infant spars. Heat skittered in hot rivulets against her skin as the water dripping down her spine began to steam, a hot sun bore down on the scene as ears flickered to the sides and then back again. More talking, this filly really had a mouth on her, Sialia would have long since put the child in her place and then some. But Sialia was not there, she was gone, off doing whatever it was that she did in her spare time.
Bathsheba would not reward this crass thing with a response, even as a scream built up against the back of her tongue, strangling her breath in its ferocity. The sizzling creature hovered and sparked, though was no longer a source of terror for Sheba, her duo-toned flesh had felt the burn of electricity and would carry a handsome bruise in its wake. Instead of a response she simply allowed herself to fall, dropping skinny legs beneath a heaving chest, inhaling thick humidity into shivering lungs. Her tail swung around to settle against the parts of her that yet stuck out of the water, being nearly submerged 'the water is getting deep....' In a moment of self-imposed peace her mind wandered wantonly to the memory of a mare, a creature who held secrets in the very depth of her dress. Syrena would have been quite the sight at this level, blue feet and a red body - Bathsheba choked out a small laugh for her own benefit, Mother knows she needed it.
@Oizys
Humility is something she is very familiar with and while this strange foal might think the tuck of her nose was in public shame, it came from a much deeper despair than she could possibly imagine. There was a gargantuan level of courage involved taking those first steps of retaliation, Bathsheba was mortally wounded, crippled, and worse - without magic. Helplessness was a part of her daily routine and here she was, sharing jeers and watery blows with a child fully-capable of hurting her if it came to that. Perhaps the real fighting was left to adults, but that did not mean that they as children could not to do plenty of harm in their own infant spars. Heat skittered in hot rivulets against her skin as the water dripping down her spine began to steam, a hot sun bore down on the scene as ears flickered to the sides and then back again. More talking, this filly really had a mouth on her, Sialia would have long since put the child in her place and then some. But Sialia was not there, she was gone, off doing whatever it was that she did in her spare time.
Bathsheba would not reward this crass thing with a response, even as a scream built up against the back of her tongue, strangling her breath in its ferocity. The sizzling creature hovered and sparked, though was no longer a source of terror for Sheba, her duo-toned flesh had felt the burn of electricity and would carry a handsome bruise in its wake. Instead of a response she simply allowed herself to fall, dropping skinny legs beneath a heaving chest, inhaling thick humidity into shivering lungs. Her tail swung around to settle against the parts of her that yet stuck out of the water, being nearly submerged 'the water is getting deep....' In a moment of self-imposed peace her mind wandered wantonly to the memory of a mare, a creature who held secrets in the very depth of her dress. Syrena would have been quite the sight at this level, blue feet and a red body - Bathsheba choked out a small laugh for her own benefit, Mother knows she needed it.
@Oizys
