10-03-2016, 03:20 PM
He fucking smirks. Well, fine, so it’s just a tiny twitch of his lips, not even. One little corner shifting just slightly, but in an amused direction. I snarl and glare even as his eyes narrow, and then the bastard has the audacity to smile. “Oh, precious, it’d take more than the likes of you to kill me. Unless you’ve got some kinda magic in those dainty bird legs of yours, but last I heard there’s not a whole hell of a lot of magic left in the world.”
Oh, don’t get me wrong, he has perfectly nice legs. Normal-shaped and everything. But first off, my mouth tends to just say things without exactly consulting my brain to see if they’re accurate or, you know, smart or anything. And second, it’s maybe just a tiny, tiiiny bit more fun to poke the angry bear with a stick than to walk away gingerly and shit. So I don’t exactly fight my natural instincts, even if they’re dumb as fuck.
Still, he squares up to spar, and I shrug. I mean, I wasn’t looking for a fight when I stomped into the Meadow, but it’d be better than being all worried about my daughters, neither of which seems inclined to make their damn presence known and tell their mother they’re still fucking alive or anything.
Or I could just mouth off more. That could be fun too.
“I don’t know, princess, with those scrawny legs of yours I’d be worried you’d fall over if you tried to dance with me. You sure you’re up for that? Don’t need to go lie down and spare yourself the effort of balancing?” He actually looks like he could dance circles around me, but I’m not about to tell him that. Or even really let myself dwell on it for more than half a heartbeat.
I’ve made it this far in life through having way the hell more balls than brains, so to speak. Might as well keep it up now. “I know it can be hard, with your head so far off the ground. So much work to get any blood up to your brain, easy to get a little woozy if you’re not careful. Wouldn’t want to see you faint. After all, you might hurt the shrubbery if you fell on it.”
Oh, don’t get me wrong, he has perfectly nice legs. Normal-shaped and everything. But first off, my mouth tends to just say things without exactly consulting my brain to see if they’re accurate or, you know, smart or anything. And second, it’s maybe just a tiny, tiiiny bit more fun to poke the angry bear with a stick than to walk away gingerly and shit. So I don’t exactly fight my natural instincts, even if they’re dumb as fuck.
Still, he squares up to spar, and I shrug. I mean, I wasn’t looking for a fight when I stomped into the Meadow, but it’d be better than being all worried about my daughters, neither of which seems inclined to make their damn presence known and tell their mother they’re still fucking alive or anything.
Or I could just mouth off more. That could be fun too.
“I don’t know, princess, with those scrawny legs of yours I’d be worried you’d fall over if you tried to dance with me. You sure you’re up for that? Don’t need to go lie down and spare yourself the effort of balancing?” He actually looks like he could dance circles around me, but I’m not about to tell him that. Or even really let myself dwell on it for more than half a heartbeat.
I’ve made it this far in life through having way the hell more balls than brains, so to speak. Might as well keep it up now. “I know it can be hard, with your head so far off the ground. So much work to get any blood up to your brain, easy to get a little woozy if you’re not careful. Wouldn’t want to see you faint. After all, you might hurt the shrubbery if you fell on it.”