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Larue...
The lemon drop couldn’t muffle her delighted shriek as her contraption worked, itchy Sandivy leaves raining down on her victim in the cold, inky night. However, her shriek morphed from delight to surprise as wind whipped by her, Albrecht’s vicious bucking kick just narrowly missing her head.
Small, candied, rose-thorn hooves scramble in the icy snow, hustling backwards and away from his flying hooves and snarled curses. “Crap,” she yelped to herself as her small, lemony haunches smacked into a thick, gnarled, rough trunk. She was trapped by the very tree she used to make her contraption! Karma is funny that way—one moment giving the lemon drop her victim, but the next blocking her escape. Bright teal eyes widen in fear as the old bag’o’bones furiously rounded on her, rushing at her with an angry, open mouth.
“WAIT! Wait!” her high-pitched, scared squeals split the night, “If you hurt me, I won’t show you the cure!” was her panicked, off-the-cuff bargaining. Though not entirely truthful, the hot spring’s smelly mud did provide some relief from the leaf’s persistently painful itch. Sure, the mud needed to be re-applied often in order to continuously feel the relief, but it was something. And something was better than being pummeled to smithereens beneath the old hag’s boney hooves and gross, yellow teeth.
All the while, her wide eyes darted around, searching for and escape—or for a witness. Surely this old hag couldn’t kill a sweet little tartlet if there was someone else around? Her large nostrils quivered as her young, panicked mind tried to think. She never was actually caught in any of her pranks. Until now.
Small, candied, rose-thorn hooves scramble in the icy snow, hustling backwards and away from his flying hooves and snarled curses. “Crap,” she yelped to herself as her small, lemony haunches smacked into a thick, gnarled, rough trunk. She was trapped by the very tree she used to make her contraption! Karma is funny that way—one moment giving the lemon drop her victim, but the next blocking her escape. Bright teal eyes widen in fear as the old bag’o’bones furiously rounded on her, rushing at her with an angry, open mouth.
“WAIT! Wait!” her high-pitched, scared squeals split the night, “If you hurt me, I won’t show you the cure!” was her panicked, off-the-cuff bargaining. Though not entirely truthful, the hot spring’s smelly mud did provide some relief from the leaf’s persistently painful itch. Sure, the mud needed to be re-applied often in order to continuously feel the relief, but it was something. And something was better than being pummeled to smithereens beneath the old hag’s boney hooves and gross, yellow teeth.
All the while, her wide eyes darted around, searching for and escape—or for a witness. Surely this old hag couldn’t kill a sweet little tartlet if there was someone else around? Her large nostrils quivered as her young, panicked mind tried to think. She never was actually caught in any of her pranks. Until now.
...pucker up
@Albrecht
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