Swallow cities to feel alive...
Wrath. She can feel it coil beneath her flesh like a foreign substance. It aches for destruction, for blood, for war. Her lips hunger for the absent taste of iron. It has been so long since she has felt this burning inside her. It rumbles in response to the terrible roar that echoes over Solterra. Effy pauses her movements, her curiosity piqued by the terrible sound. A grin appears on her face. Slow. Slowly it burns across her facade. In moments she tears across the sand and stone of the city. It is well worn from the blizzards of snow, and the baking sun. Abrasions are torn into each stone. They are unloved. Effy feels her lungs burn like her smile. Each expansion draws new breath, new fire into her lungs. Her muscles are alive. Each muscle springs to action at her command. Soon they will ache from the wounds of battle she so loves.
When the volatile soldier arrives, she is not the first. Others as eager for the hunt as she have spilled into the street. There is only one she recognizes from the time Ipomoea made an appearance. When he confronted Raum. The man with a maw on his chest, caging his beating heart. Effy does not have any feelings for any of these equines. Her eyes lock on the creature. It is something she has never seen before. Whispers from frightened Solterrans tell her they flee from a Teryr. The man with the caged heart asks a stranger what the fuck he is doing throwing a rock. He has no weapons. Effy does not have weapons; she is a weapon. "What? Afraid he'll get scratched? Maybe he'll learn." She hissed to Torstein as she ran past him. Effy felt the thrill of the hunt course through her bodice as she threw herself into the fray. A blast of sand and another terrible screech come from the Teryr.
Effy pauses momentarily, casting her face away from the brunt of the storm. She goes for the soft, vulnerable locations of the belly. What she thinks is vulnerable. Effy has never fought a Teryr before, but she is not afraid. Her wrath bubbles over, and she unleashes it. Vicious. Her ears vaguely register the shouts and cries around her. They do not call for her. They are not her brethren. Nobody knows her. None of them are to care about her wellbeing. All that matters is the death of this terrible monster. She dances, an adept warrior beneath the Teryr. Her enamels snap at his flesh. She is moving. Ever moving beneath the king of the sands.
Words: 438 | Notes: oof garbage post | Tags: Everyone here <3When the volatile soldier arrives, she is not the first. Others as eager for the hunt as she have spilled into the street. There is only one she recognizes from the time Ipomoea made an appearance. When he confronted Raum. The man with a maw on his chest, caging his beating heart. Effy does not have any feelings for any of these equines. Her eyes lock on the creature. It is something she has never seen before. Whispers from frightened Solterrans tell her they flee from a Teryr. The man with the caged heart asks a stranger what the fuck he is doing throwing a rock. He has no weapons. Effy does not have weapons; she is a weapon. "What? Afraid he'll get scratched? Maybe he'll learn." She hissed to Torstein as she ran past him. Effy felt the thrill of the hunt course through her bodice as she threw herself into the fray. A blast of sand and another terrible screech come from the Teryr.
Effy pauses momentarily, casting her face away from the brunt of the storm. She goes for the soft, vulnerable locations of the belly. What she thinks is vulnerable. Effy has never fought a Teryr before, but she is not afraid. Her wrath bubbles over, and she unleashes it. Vicious. Her ears vaguely register the shouts and cries around her. They do not call for her. They are not her brethren. Nobody knows her. None of them are to care about her wellbeing. All that matters is the death of this terrible monster. She dances, an adept warrior beneath the Teryr. Her enamels snap at his flesh. She is moving. Ever moving beneath the king of the sands.
... Spit them out when I'm satisfied
