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09-20-2012, 01:50 AM
Korra thrilling to think, poor child of sin - it was the dead who groaned within
The savage slipped through the shadows, soundlessly prowling closer to the disturbance in her home. The blood within her was reaching a boiling point, so when the gold-tinged barbarian stepped upon the scene, it was with a grimace of rage on her scarred face. There they were, paraded up in front of her, like slabs of meat waiting to be chomped in to. Ivory antlers caught the light briefly in their knife-sharp tips, brown eyes turning black from the anger in her body. Hornless and blood-traitors had swarmed upon her land, invaded her home and had the audacity to stand up and demand to be welcomed with open arms. The wildling snorted and spat, glaring at the draconic wench who seemed to be their leader. That was exactly what she thought of them – she would use their blood to paint the sky red.
No word was spoken when she strode forward, placing herself close to her pale king. She would gladly throw the first stone, and she would die if it meant chasing these disgusting amoebas back under the rock where they had come from. There was no fear in her soulless eyes, just hatred and a terrible, smoldering fire, about to erupt at any given time. This was a battlefield, this was where she prevailed every time, a warrior worthy of her colours. The numbers of the enemy meant nothing to her; nothing mattered anymore, except the taste of blood on her lips. They were many, but were their cause as severe as the ones that were standing here, defending a home? Could so many creatures from such different places be equally devoted to the cause, were they ready to die for something they didn’t believe in? Korra thought not. But now, they would. [295 words] |
