Talk:Girtablilu/@comment-25095137-20140817150308/@comment-99.103.64.228-20140818083356

I had heard of these creatures. Disgusting, even for a monster. At least most have the decency to appear human, but these things... I quickly draw my sword and bring it to bare against one of the fouler of the desert dwellers, knowing actions speak far louder than words where these things are concerned, and the message was "get lost." Undisturbed, the girtablilu holds her knife to match and tail poised to strike. "Bite me" was the message I took from her reaction. Regripping the hilt of my blade for stability, both physical and mental, I took a step back into a defensive stance. I'm not a swordsmaster, and as much as I'd like to puff myself up and state the contrary, one of us is going to get hurt, and unfortunately it won't be her as much as it will me. As if she were tightening a spring the whole time, her bulk came flying at a frightening velocity at my face, stinger first. A quick dive into the sand that to make myself sound better I'll refer to as a dodge roll spares me from being a spongy and bruised block of Swiss cheese. I turn to see her in the same stance as before, while I'm still spitting sand out of my mouth from my ostrich techni-imeanDODGE! My dodge. Forcefully expelling the last of the desert from my equally dry mouth, I mutter, "I hate monsters, I truly do."