12-18-2018, 08:28 PM
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With her prey caught, the ocelot’s attention wavered enough to hear the squelching sand behind her – but she did not turn fast enough, and she tumbled into the sand at the sweep to her legs. Her catch and knife dropped to the ground in a heap, forgotten, as his second blow caught her sides and she rolled. Her paws pushed off the sand, adding to the momentum he lent her until she landed at the edge of the sea with clumps of sand sticking everywhere.
Alone, Rosemary felt far less playful than the tiger; any threat to a lone wolf always threatened their survival. She lived alone, in the midst of monsters and away from her family, for long enough to instinctively fall to defensive tactics if not outright fleeing. Quickly she rose to her paws, leveling a glare now that she put a fair bit of distance between the them – only to see him grinning back at her. He ruined her hunt and attacked her back, just for a game? How rude.
Usually, Rosemary fled at the first sign of aggression – she had to, for survival, with her poor combat training. But this was the beach, where she literally stood ankles deep in her element. The water witch thrived with the sea at her back; if it were a rock behind her, she’d feel cornered. But here, in this place, she knew she could defend herself.
Sea foam pooled at her paws, tendrils of water spiraling up around her as the seawater converged towards her. The ocelot’s four blue eyes locked onto the tiger, plainly annoyed. “Really? Really, that’s my lunch!” she growled, flexing her claws as one water whip snapped towards his face, attempting to whip on his nose. She used that as a distraction, trying to quickly summon her knife and octopus towards her with telekinesis before he could notice to intercept. “The hell’d you do that for?” she added, for good measure, forked tail lashing behind her – the water tendrils conveniently moving out of its path before it could collide with them.
He smelled like the Typhoon, too, and that made her angrier. She’d recognize the stench of her home anywhere, and it came as an unpleasant surprise to smell that on the wind. Rosemary ran out of the place and hadn’t looked back – not to say that she hadn’t regretted the decision, because she had. But she didn’t want to face the memories or any of her family that remained there.
Alone, Rosemary felt far less playful than the tiger; any threat to a lone wolf always threatened their survival. She lived alone, in the midst of monsters and away from her family, for long enough to instinctively fall to defensive tactics if not outright fleeing. Quickly she rose to her paws, leveling a glare now that she put a fair bit of distance between the them – only to see him grinning back at her. He ruined her hunt and attacked her back, just for a game? How rude.
Usually, Rosemary fled at the first sign of aggression – she had to, for survival, with her poor combat training. But this was the beach, where she literally stood ankles deep in her element. The water witch thrived with the sea at her back; if it were a rock behind her, she’d feel cornered. But here, in this place, she knew she could defend herself.
Sea foam pooled at her paws, tendrils of water spiraling up around her as the seawater converged towards her. The ocelot’s four blue eyes locked onto the tiger, plainly annoyed. “Really? Really, that’s my lunch!” she growled, flexing her claws as one water whip snapped towards his face, attempting to whip on his nose. She used that as a distraction, trying to quickly summon her knife and octopus towards her with telekinesis before he could notice to intercept. “The hell’d you do that for?” she added, for good measure, forked tail lashing behind her – the water tendrils conveniently moving out of its path before it could collide with them.
He smelled like the Typhoon, too, and that made her angrier. She’d recognize the stench of her home anywhere, and it came as an unpleasant surprise to smell that on the wind. Rosemary ran out of the place and hadn’t looked back – not to say that she hadn’t regretted the decision, because she had. But she didn’t want to face the memories or any of her family that remained there.
waded through the spirits like a flood on the floor
SHE PUSHED THE WATER INSIDE
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?