Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20191103030646/@comment-30014014-20191110015937

@Hound

It should have been done and over with. Right here, on the spot.

Before he could even feel her press against him. His mind, hearing the glacous intent of his 'guest'.

HIs hand puncturing the wolfen's stomach, right in front of him.

An innocent death, by his presence. Laughter of his puppeteer.

It should have been...

It wasn't.

Be it by his own volition. Be it by a draw of luck of his broken arm. Or, be it by the intervention, likely of something or someone else. None of this had come to pass. The hand that should have acted with imminence, did not. Locked in place as if held away from his possessor's control.

Whatever occured seems to be playing with persistance as Prad can feel the arm shake, tremble, pulsating with rage, yearning to shed her blood. Only to wither from the malice, again. For the third time, it was...peace, in his mind.

Enough for Prad to realize that his snapped jaw still had a trickle of blood. It wouldn't be very polite for him to let his certain someone imprint the taste of iron on herself. As such...

...he diverts his head at the last second, expecting her to instead leave a smooch on his cheek. Was she looking, she'd see the small parcel of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.