rebellion sits well on you; like a red coat
Boudika watched a transformation take place, as the drums slowed their beat within her raging heart. She recognized the change; it possessed all the familiarity of family, and it occurred, simultaneously, within her. He narrowly dodged her blow toward his head and retreated a few steps, only to slump against the wall.
And there her eyes bore into him, in his defeat. There, she could not help but see herself only months ago, drenched in rainwater and exhausted from her flight. She had thought, if she could run far enough, fast enough—they would not catch her. But they had, and Boudika had known when defeat had come there were no powers on earth to save her from her fate. Perhaps she had more in common with a criminal than she would ever like to admit.
Her ear flicked toward Morrighan, and then she broke her concentration on the stranger. Before Boudika had a chance to answer, Isra appeared, like vengeance. In doing so, the old bar transformed—steel bars erected themselves, accompanied by words that ought to have been warm, ought to have been comforting, and instead were cool. Welcome home.
Boudika’s tongue worked numbly, now. She wanted nothing more than to become a dancer again; she stared forlornly “I was close to the fire. I smelled smoke almost immediately and ran for it… When I arrived, I saw him before he could flee. Morrighan appeared and we chased him down. Something wasn’t right, about him being there.”
And she wondered—she wondered briefly, ephemerally, as her rage simmered to nothing and her heart grew empty, what had driven the boy to dance to the drums.
@Abel @Morrighan @Isra … I don’t know why I didn’t realise it was my turn xD my apologies <3
