IT'S EASY TO FAKE A SMILE // capture

[aine.]

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AINE NÍ BROIN
FLESHWEAVER
FAE DRUID
INFORMATION

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[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2e8b57; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px"]HOW DO YOU RUN FROM Y[color=#5d8e93]OUR OWN MIND?

Conclusions.  They were different not to make.  Especially with Dante.  Too violent.  Too fond of a dead era.  The sight of blood is enough to fuel rage within the petite deer-fox.  Ice through her veins as she padded forward.  Hazel hues accusatory on Dante.

"Dante." Cold and quiet.  Direct.  On him.  "He's a child you piece of shit." No hesitance.  Her wings were more than ruffled.  Enraged at the sight of injury on the youth.  She understood defending their borders but she drew the line at children.  "Who I will be healing then escorting home.  He doesn't- he doesn't have to tell you shit."

And she lifted her head.  She wouldn't be tolerating anything in her way.  Not today.  Not ever.  Her hooves dug into the ground.  The last Pittian who thought hurting a child was okay, for naively crossing the border, had been exiled by Kydobi.  If she had the authority, the words were more than tempting.  Among other choice phrases.

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