[ The wordless shout Poesia gives is pure joy. Fire! Wonderful! She knew Marcus had been the right choice for this.
It's not dragon fire, but the heat still pulls at her blood as she twists, darting between the two fireballs. There is, of course, the urge to move closer, to strike back, to kill and rip and maim.
But then the game would be over. She tries to circle him instead, to see if he follows and what he does next. ]
no subject
It's not dragon fire, but the heat still pulls at her blood as she twists, darting between the two fireballs. There is, of course, the urge to move closer, to strike back, to kill and rip and maim.
But then the game would be over. She tries to circle him instead, to see if he follows and what he does next. ]