"Shit." Even her voice sounded different to her now. There was something harsh about it in her own head. "This is so bad," she added, gripping her hands together before moving them up and squeezing her wrists.
Ulrika had been unable to understand the language of this place for nearly three hours now. Confused and frustrated, based over terror, she had left her friends in the village. Even Bear had felt awkward to her, and that's where she had lost grip on her nerves. They were shattered and she was trying to not cry as she sat on a large boulder. The rock was half in a lake, which slapped against it in a steady rhythm. Its reliability helped Ulrika to ease her thoughts and try to go one step at a time.
A tear slid down her cheek, and before she could wipe it away, it fell and landed in the lake. She watched the tiny ripples spread out, breathing deep even as her lower lip trembled. How was she supposed to do anything if she couldn't understand what people were saying to her? Where was Bates? Ulrika paused, then squeezed her wrists and moved her hands up to her shoulders and hugged them. Was he okay?
She noticed larger ripples had come and crashed into her tear ripples, as if something large had just barely touched the surface of the water. Instinctively, she pulled her feet away from the water and scooted back on the rock. She had come to distrust almost every mundane occurrence that happened - first she had met a strange wooden spirit, the next time she had been nearly killed by a water lion who then decided that instead he would teach her to roar after she screamed at him, and she couldn't forget the raven lady who had nearly outed Bates but had apparently swiftly developed a soft spot for Ulrika and her platinum eyes.
A form slithered just under the surface of the water, breaching to expose copper scales that shimmered in the sun. Ulrika frowned, that was way too big to be a fish. Or at least any fish Ulrika knew of. Who knew what kind of 'monster fish' they had here? It was moving toward her swiftly, she could barely make out the outline of its tail. Rising to her feet, Ulrika moved away from the edge of the water just as a hand reached up over the rock - a human hand, with what looked like webbing strung between the fingers.
A man's head followed, with slicked back black hair with grey laced through it at the temples, and auburn eyes. His nose was perfectly straight and his cheeks were rough, the left had a scar ripping down it to his chin. He caught her gaze as he folded both his arms over the rock, exposing sharp fins that jutted out from his forearms, and scales speckled his skin the same copper color as his tail.
"Why such tears?" he asked with a husky voice, deep and gravely.
Ulrika started, she understood every word he said. This couldn't be real - she had to be hallucinating. Of all the creatures that she could understand without Bates near... it had to be a merman!
Showing posts with label thesis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thesis. Show all posts
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Even old souls can be little brats
"You little brat," screeched the pear shaped man in a rather effeminate way, "I need that!"
"You don't need," Mixxy answered, ducking under a curtain of ivy that hung in the door to the fort. Her tiny frame easily avoided the man's desperate snatches. "You want. It's different!"
"You don't understand," he wailed. His hands slammed into the ivy, stopping short - as if the ivy was a wall and not a curtain. He pounded his fists against the plants behind which Mixxy was taking refuge, the glowing white butterfly cupped safely in her hands. "What is this? This isn't fair! Come back out here."
"What a baby," she said to her insect friend, peeking carefully between the ropes of green.
"Mr. Trade!" The man had turned away, exposing more rips and tears in the quality material of his suit, and screamed into the darkness. "Jack. I need help!"
"You cannot be serious," said a new, lower voice. It made Mixxy flinch and pull the butterfly closer to her chest protectively - it was a bad voice. "It is but a child."
"I can't reach her. She's gone into that shabby pile of sticks. It won't let me in."
"Go away or I'll get a bear to eat you, and your hat," Mixxy threatened, keeping herself out of view even as she tried to see who the other person was that the crazy suit-man was talking to. Jack's voice came from all directions, so even the nature-prone Mixxy couldn't locate where the owner was.
"Why you little--"
"Calm, calm," said Mr. Trade. The sound of crunching leaves reached Mixxy, but she couldn't see where they were being crushed. "It is quite simple, we flush her out."
"You don't need," Mixxy answered, ducking under a curtain of ivy that hung in the door to the fort. Her tiny frame easily avoided the man's desperate snatches. "You want. It's different!"
"You don't understand," he wailed. His hands slammed into the ivy, stopping short - as if the ivy was a wall and not a curtain. He pounded his fists against the plants behind which Mixxy was taking refuge, the glowing white butterfly cupped safely in her hands. "What is this? This isn't fair! Come back out here."
"What a baby," she said to her insect friend, peeking carefully between the ropes of green.
"Mr. Trade!" The man had turned away, exposing more rips and tears in the quality material of his suit, and screamed into the darkness. "Jack. I need help!"
"You cannot be serious," said a new, lower voice. It made Mixxy flinch and pull the butterfly closer to her chest protectively - it was a bad voice. "It is but a child."
"I can't reach her. She's gone into that shabby pile of sticks. It won't let me in."
"Go away or I'll get a bear to eat you, and your hat," Mixxy threatened, keeping herself out of view even as she tried to see who the other person was that the crazy suit-man was talking to. Jack's voice came from all directions, so even the nature-prone Mixxy couldn't locate where the owner was.
"Why you little--"
"Calm, calm," said Mr. Trade. The sound of crunching leaves reached Mixxy, but she couldn't see where they were being crushed. "It is quite simple, we flush her out."
Friday, March 9, 2012
Never expect fantasy to leave a character frustrated.
Ulrika waved her hand violently toward Gisil to tell him not to follow. She knew it was the very first sword fighting lesson, but she still felt disheartened at the ease at which Gisil moved and struck when she struggled to even keep her weight properly distributed over her feet. It always takes time, Gisil had said, his voice stern but understanding. She understood that, and it make sense, yet she had still been hoping she had just an innate ability to kick ass.
If there was one thing she had to do when wound up tight, it was meaningless, steady repetition. Of anything. Blinking, Ulrika realized that she had stormed right out into the center of the fallow field, and let out a slow sigh. It would do. Kneeling into the dirt and decomposing plant matter, she started to dig. Her skin became stained with dark brown earth that had flecks of vibrant colors of purple and red, sometimes yellow. She couldn't tell if those were minerals or bits of plant, but what really surprised was pulling out a small, round object that seemed to be made entirely of wood.
After just a brief moment of sitting cupped in her palms, the object unwound tiny arm and leg like appendages and wobbled up to stand. Now it looked like a very round person, with all the weight down in the hips and a narrow chest. Its face was a leaf, with big, round eyes that reminded Ulrika of cat's eye marbles. It stared at her, then flapped its arms up and down and spun around delicately on one leg like a ballerina. It then squeaked several times in different tones, as if talking to her.
"Erm," she said, still confused on what it could possibly be. She reached down with her finger and held it out in front of the small wooden creature. "I'm Ulrika, hello?"
The creature grabbed onto her finger with both its little arms - which confused Ulrika even more because it didn't appear to have fingers - and shook it up and down exuberantly. Then it whistled and a small, purple flower bloomed on the top of its head. Ulrika figured this must be a good sign, the strange little thing seemed happy. Or it could be planning to eat her, but that seemed ridiculous.
If there was one thing she had to do when wound up tight, it was meaningless, steady repetition. Of anything. Blinking, Ulrika realized that she had stormed right out into the center of the fallow field, and let out a slow sigh. It would do. Kneeling into the dirt and decomposing plant matter, she started to dig. Her skin became stained with dark brown earth that had flecks of vibrant colors of purple and red, sometimes yellow. She couldn't tell if those were minerals or bits of plant, but what really surprised was pulling out a small, round object that seemed to be made entirely of wood.
After just a brief moment of sitting cupped in her palms, the object unwound tiny arm and leg like appendages and wobbled up to stand. Now it looked like a very round person, with all the weight down in the hips and a narrow chest. Its face was a leaf, with big, round eyes that reminded Ulrika of cat's eye marbles. It stared at her, then flapped its arms up and down and spun around delicately on one leg like a ballerina. It then squeaked several times in different tones, as if talking to her.
"Erm," she said, still confused on what it could possibly be. She reached down with her finger and held it out in front of the small wooden creature. "I'm Ulrika, hello?"
The creature grabbed onto her finger with both its little arms - which confused Ulrika even more because it didn't appear to have fingers - and shook it up and down exuberantly. Then it whistled and a small, purple flower bloomed on the top of its head. Ulrika figured this must be a good sign, the strange little thing seemed happy. Or it could be planning to eat her, but that seemed ridiculous.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Close on Mixxy
Mixxy was playing in her backyard when she heard the white butterfly scream. It had passed her earlier, when she had just started to dig in the garden to plant bulbs of bright yellow flowers that would balance the colors again. There was too much green. Mixxy had let it land on her hands, and asked it to play, but it had said it was in a hurry and had to leave. Someone was chasing it. She had been disappointed; the butterfly shimmered with a soft light and reminded her of a full moon in insect form.
So, she told the butterfly to go to the fort - the one that she and Antoine had built - it was safe there. The butterfly told her not to follow, it was too dangerous. Although Mixxy disagreed that something could be too dangerous for her, she did what the butterfly said - she didn't want to upset it more than it already was.
She knew it was the white butterfly that had screamed, she could feel it in the base of her spine. It felt just like when she went to get her hair cut and the nice hairdresser lady tilted her head back into the basin to wash her long, blond locks.
"Help! Help me please!" Mixxy heard. The sound bounced off the back wall of her house, and it seemed like it was coming in at her from all sides. The voice was barely a whisper, but it rang in Mixxy's ears and made her flinch and drop her digging tools to cover her ears with her hands.
"I'm coming, Butterfly!" she called back, cupping her hands around her mouth. Without hesitation, she ran away from her house and toward the back woods, pausing only to turn a small statue of a faerie around so that it was pointing into the forest. Antoine would know to come get her - he always knew, but she turned the faerie just in case.
So, she told the butterfly to go to the fort - the one that she and Antoine had built - it was safe there. The butterfly told her not to follow, it was too dangerous. Although Mixxy disagreed that something could be too dangerous for her, she did what the butterfly said - she didn't want to upset it more than it already was.
She knew it was the white butterfly that had screamed, she could feel it in the base of her spine. It felt just like when she went to get her hair cut and the nice hairdresser lady tilted her head back into the basin to wash her long, blond locks.
"Help! Help me please!" Mixxy heard. The sound bounced off the back wall of her house, and it seemed like it was coming in at her from all sides. The voice was barely a whisper, but it rang in Mixxy's ears and made her flinch and drop her digging tools to cover her ears with her hands.
"I'm coming, Butterfly!" she called back, cupping her hands around her mouth. Without hesitation, she ran away from her house and toward the back woods, pausing only to turn a small statue of a faerie around so that it was pointing into the forest. Antoine would know to come get her - he always knew, but she turned the faerie just in case.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
The Green Faerie
Ulrika ducked under the long branch that Gisil held aloft for her, and took a quick look around. It wasn't that she didn't believe her friend about "The Green Faerie," but where she was from that title referred to absinthe. A hallucinogenic liquor - illegal in her home country of America though, at least if it was distilled from wormwood with all its drug like properties intact. She was in a new, mystical land after all, but she just couldn't shake the train of thought.
The air inside the grove felt warm and wet against Ulrika's skin, nearly to the point of discomfort. It made her aware of each part of her body that was exposed to the air. It even smelled wet, but at least it was the kind of wet that came after a spring shower - earthy and soothing. In the center was a small pool of water that was an emerald color, with a tall, smooth stone covered in moss rising from the center. It was tucked between the curling roots of a great oak that stretched high out of sight.
"This place is strange," Ulrika said, catching sight of Bates settling onto a high branch to observe. That's all he seemed to do, was observe. He never really interfered with her decisions other than to devil's advocate her til she ignored him.
"So you can feel it in the air?" Gisil asked curiously. He didn't look as unsettled here. "I have never been here before, but I've been told only certain types of people can feel the presence of the faerie before she even exposes herself."
"So it's a real faerie?" Ulrika gazed into the green colored pool, frowning skeptically.
"Yes. Though if you can't sense her on your own terms, you can always drink from the pool to call her to you."
Ulrika blanched. So it was absinthe. This place had naturally occurring absinthe? She took a closer look at what she thought was an oak and wondered if instead it was a wormwood tree - but wormwood was a bush wasn't it? Did this place have wormwood trees instead?
The air inside the grove felt warm and wet against Ulrika's skin, nearly to the point of discomfort. It made her aware of each part of her body that was exposed to the air. It even smelled wet, but at least it was the kind of wet that came after a spring shower - earthy and soothing. In the center was a small pool of water that was an emerald color, with a tall, smooth stone covered in moss rising from the center. It was tucked between the curling roots of a great oak that stretched high out of sight.
"This place is strange," Ulrika said, catching sight of Bates settling onto a high branch to observe. That's all he seemed to do, was observe. He never really interfered with her decisions other than to devil's advocate her til she ignored him.
"So you can feel it in the air?" Gisil asked curiously. He didn't look as unsettled here. "I have never been here before, but I've been told only certain types of people can feel the presence of the faerie before she even exposes herself."
"So it's a real faerie?" Ulrika gazed into the green colored pool, frowning skeptically.
"Yes. Though if you can't sense her on your own terms, you can always drink from the pool to call her to you."
Ulrika blanched. So it was absinthe. This place had naturally occurring absinthe? She took a closer look at what she thought was an oak and wondered if instead it was a wormwood tree - but wormwood was a bush wasn't it? Did this place have wormwood trees instead?
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Will on the Weapon
Ulrika jerked her shoulder back, barely avoiding her opponent's strike. She was having trouble dealing with the reach of his weapon, a pole-arm, compared to her short sword. Gisil used a long sword when training her, but he had been focusing mostly on her footwork and having her use her lighter frame and flexibility to gain and advantage.
That was hard when the dick she was fighting had six-foot reach and could apparently use the entire weapon - blade and haft - as a dangerous implement. Ulrika had bruises on her ribs and over her gut under the heavy material of her tunic. It took all of her attention and whatever skill she had learned to not already by cut up and impaled by the sword-on-a-stick.
"You have surprised me," said Cristalf as he twirled his weapon around his body, "it's quite cute, actually, watching you flutter around my blade in a panic."
"Oh shut up, you pompous dick," Ulrika answered as she charged. She accepted the bash of the pole-arm's haft on her elbow as she struck out with her short sword. Already she knew she was too far away to connect, and that infuriated her. Why couldn't the damn blade just be longer? Even if it was the length of Gisil's longsword would be fine enough. "Damnit! BE A FUCKING LONGSWORD!" she thought bitterly.
The sound of metal sliding against metal filled the air, then it turned into a wet crunch, as if Ulrika had just sheathed her weapon into bag filled with meat. She stared, as did Cristalf, at where her weapon was impaling him in the shoulder. Red liquid was sliding down the black metal of her blade, sizzling before evaporating away. The short sword had grown to a hand and a half, a bastard sword, and before Ulrika's disbelieving eyes, it extended to the full, two-hand length of a longsword, protruding from Cristalf's shoulder.
"W-well," said the man. His tone was restrained, and he grunted as Ulrika wrenched her blade out of his body. "It seems you have won this bout. It was first blood after all, and I never managed to draw blood."
"How the hell are you so calm?" she blurted out. "You just got stabbed!"
"Merely a flesh wound, you did not hit anything important... now if you would be so gracious as to assist me to my horse, I have bandages and herbal salves that would be quite useful at the moment - for the both of us."
That was hard when the dick she was fighting had six-foot reach and could apparently use the entire weapon - blade and haft - as a dangerous implement. Ulrika had bruises on her ribs and over her gut under the heavy material of her tunic. It took all of her attention and whatever skill she had learned to not already by cut up and impaled by the sword-on-a-stick.
"You have surprised me," said Cristalf as he twirled his weapon around his body, "it's quite cute, actually, watching you flutter around my blade in a panic."
"Oh shut up, you pompous dick," Ulrika answered as she charged. She accepted the bash of the pole-arm's haft on her elbow as she struck out with her short sword. Already she knew she was too far away to connect, and that infuriated her. Why couldn't the damn blade just be longer? Even if it was the length of Gisil's longsword would be fine enough. "Damnit! BE A FUCKING LONGSWORD!" she thought bitterly.
The sound of metal sliding against metal filled the air, then it turned into a wet crunch, as if Ulrika had just sheathed her weapon into bag filled with meat. She stared, as did Cristalf, at where her weapon was impaling him in the shoulder. Red liquid was sliding down the black metal of her blade, sizzling before evaporating away. The short sword had grown to a hand and a half, a bastard sword, and before Ulrika's disbelieving eyes, it extended to the full, two-hand length of a longsword, protruding from Cristalf's shoulder.
"W-well," said the man. His tone was restrained, and he grunted as Ulrika wrenched her blade out of his body. "It seems you have won this bout. It was first blood after all, and I never managed to draw blood."
"How the hell are you so calm?" she blurted out. "You just got stabbed!"
"Merely a flesh wound, you did not hit anything important... now if you would be so gracious as to assist me to my horse, I have bandages and herbal salves that would be quite useful at the moment - for the both of us."
Friday, February 24, 2012
Titles are still hard
"Gisil," Ulrika said. She was tying her hair back in a ponytail - she disliked sleeping with her hair down. "I meant to ask you something."
"What is it?" he asked, settling down on the window sil and resting his sword over his knees.
"Well, Adeptus ruled over humans for a while, didn't they?" She saw Gisil nod, his eyebrow lifting curiously. "And they live longer and are stronger than humans, right?" Another nod. "So, why are humans still around?"
"Your history really is rusty, isn't it?" he asked. He began to play with the hilt of his sword, rubbing his thumb over the intricate inlay. "Well, to put it simply, for every one female Adeptus child born, there are hundreds if not thousands of males. Female children are very rare, which is not so for humans. It's about one to one for them."
Ulrika tilted her head, a bit confused. Now, she wasn't a genius when it came to biology, but if an Adeptus and a human had a kid, wouldn't that just make a half breed? Something on her face must've spoken of her thoughts because Gisil continued.
"A child of an Adeptus will always be an Adeptus," he explained. "So even if the mother is human, the child will be Adeptus. Though, it still has the high chance of being male due to the Adeptus blood."
"So that's why all the raping happened, I suppose," Ulrika said quietly. It was sick, but she had to concede that if that was the only way to continue their race, she couldn't exactly hate the lot of them for it. Her stomach churned - it disgusted her that she had nearly condoned rape. She reaffirmed that they could've done it the old fashioned way: courting and all that. A realization dawned on her. "Uh, Gisil... your mother..."
Gisil bowed his head for a moment, remaining quiet. A sour taste flooded Ulrika's palette. That was such a bad thing to ask. She had to remember that if she asked a question, she was going to get an answer. The answer wasn't always going to be the one she wanted.
"You know," Gisil said suddenly, startling Ulrika into paying attention. "A lot of people think that you're the weaker sex, but I'd like to see them do what my mother did. You see Adeptus would use a cruel ploy to trick women into bed; they would tell them that if the child was a boy then the Adeptus takes him, and if it is a girl, the mother gets to keep her."
"But isn't it known that it is highly likely that the baby will be a boy?"
"Humans are interesting in that if you give them a small bit of hope, they will cling to it and nurture it and never let it die until it is murdered."
"So how'd your mother keep you?"
"She convinced the midwife to lie, and say I was a girl." Gisil's lips spread in a smile as he rested his head back against the wall. His eyes were distant, but in a warming way. "She fought and risked her life for a child that she didn't want in the first place, from an act that she had no choice in."
"What is it?" he asked, settling down on the window sil and resting his sword over his knees.
"Well, Adeptus ruled over humans for a while, didn't they?" She saw Gisil nod, his eyebrow lifting curiously. "And they live longer and are stronger than humans, right?" Another nod. "So, why are humans still around?"
"Your history really is rusty, isn't it?" he asked. He began to play with the hilt of his sword, rubbing his thumb over the intricate inlay. "Well, to put it simply, for every one female Adeptus child born, there are hundreds if not thousands of males. Female children are very rare, which is not so for humans. It's about one to one for them."
Ulrika tilted her head, a bit confused. Now, she wasn't a genius when it came to biology, but if an Adeptus and a human had a kid, wouldn't that just make a half breed? Something on her face must've spoken of her thoughts because Gisil continued.
"A child of an Adeptus will always be an Adeptus," he explained. "So even if the mother is human, the child will be Adeptus. Though, it still has the high chance of being male due to the Adeptus blood."
"So that's why all the raping happened, I suppose," Ulrika said quietly. It was sick, but she had to concede that if that was the only way to continue their race, she couldn't exactly hate the lot of them for it. Her stomach churned - it disgusted her that she had nearly condoned rape. She reaffirmed that they could've done it the old fashioned way: courting and all that. A realization dawned on her. "Uh, Gisil... your mother..."
Gisil bowed his head for a moment, remaining quiet. A sour taste flooded Ulrika's palette. That was such a bad thing to ask. She had to remember that if she asked a question, she was going to get an answer. The answer wasn't always going to be the one she wanted.
"You know," Gisil said suddenly, startling Ulrika into paying attention. "A lot of people think that you're the weaker sex, but I'd like to see them do what my mother did. You see Adeptus would use a cruel ploy to trick women into bed; they would tell them that if the child was a boy then the Adeptus takes him, and if it is a girl, the mother gets to keep her."
"But isn't it known that it is highly likely that the baby will be a boy?"
"Humans are interesting in that if you give them a small bit of hope, they will cling to it and nurture it and never let it die until it is murdered."
"So how'd your mother keep you?"
"She convinced the midwife to lie, and say I was a girl." Gisil's lips spread in a smile as he rested his head back against the wall. His eyes were distant, but in a warming way. "She fought and risked her life for a child that she didn't want in the first place, from an act that she had no choice in."
Monday, February 20, 2012
Titles are Hard
"Yes, thank you so much," Ulrika said shortly as she flipped the arrogant knight the bird. She glared as he walked off with his self importance holding his head high, and half her purse in his pocket. It was a moment before she realized that a small child and his slightly older sister were standing right next to her, holding on her cloak curiously.
"Miss? Miss!" the boy said, his brown eyes open so wide Ulrika was afraid they'd fall out of his head. "What does this mean?" he asked, and he stuck up his middle finger at her.
Ulrika paused, then rubbed the back of her head, feeling a sour weight land in her stomach. Damn what was she supposed to tell the kid? That was probably the reason why the knight just left without threatening her some more with jail time for not paying a traveling tax. Or whatever it was that he claimed, Ulrika had stopped listening. The only reason she paid was because she didn't want to keep using Gisil as a "get-out-of-fights-she-picked-free" card.
"Well, uhm," she said, then grinned. "It means 'Have a nice day!' You can use it both as a greeting and a good bye!"
The children's mouth gaped open, and Ulrika saw the boy was missing his incisor and the girl had her adult front teeth crowding the baby ones. She glanced around, but the handful of adults that were still paying attention after the argument looked just as curious and interested. So the middle finger didn't exist here? Sweet.
"I'm going to use that all the time!" said the girl happily. "Mamaaa! Mama! Look at what I learned from the nice traveling lady." She grabbed the boy's wrist and ran off with him, both holding their middle fingers aloft.
Ulrika was trying hard to not tear up from laughter.
"Clever," said the raven Bates as he fluttered down and alighted on her shoulder. "What will happen if another of your people ends up here?"
"Too bad," Ulrika said, "I got here first."
"Miss? Miss!" the boy said, his brown eyes open so wide Ulrika was afraid they'd fall out of his head. "What does this mean?" he asked, and he stuck up his middle finger at her.
Ulrika paused, then rubbed the back of her head, feeling a sour weight land in her stomach. Damn what was she supposed to tell the kid? That was probably the reason why the knight just left without threatening her some more with jail time for not paying a traveling tax. Or whatever it was that he claimed, Ulrika had stopped listening. The only reason she paid was because she didn't want to keep using Gisil as a "get-out-of-fights-she-picked-free" card.
"Well, uhm," she said, then grinned. "It means 'Have a nice day!' You can use it both as a greeting and a good bye!"
The children's mouth gaped open, and Ulrika saw the boy was missing his incisor and the girl had her adult front teeth crowding the baby ones. She glanced around, but the handful of adults that were still paying attention after the argument looked just as curious and interested. So the middle finger didn't exist here? Sweet.
"I'm going to use that all the time!" said the girl happily. "Mamaaa! Mama! Look at what I learned from the nice traveling lady." She grabbed the boy's wrist and ran off with him, both holding their middle fingers aloft.
Ulrika was trying hard to not tear up from laughter.
"Clever," said the raven Bates as he fluttered down and alighted on her shoulder. "What will happen if another of your people ends up here?"
"Too bad," Ulrika said, "I got here first."
Monday, January 30, 2012
Unleashed
The scream escalated so sharply that the not was like sand paper against Ulrika's vocal chords. As it died away she fell forward; her weight distributed itself over her hands, knees, and the balls of her feet. Then her stomach seized, her throat opened wide, and her lungs expanded to their fullest. She let out a roar that shook the very foundations of the keep, her spine curling violently to accommodate the force that her body shouldn't have been able to make.
Tears fell down her cheeks, leaving streams of chill on her heated skin. Ulrika glared at the gathered soldiers of Thyne as they stumbled back from the reverberations through mortar and stone all around them. She inhaled, her heart trembling under each beat. She arched her back, lifting her torso back over her knees. Splaying her fingers, Ulrika unleashed another roar that she nearly choked on. She could feel the power rattle down each vertebrae, and through an extension of her spine that she didn't have - a tail.
After the sound faded, fatigue dropped her on her hip, panting.
Tears fell down her cheeks, leaving streams of chill on her heated skin. Ulrika glared at the gathered soldiers of Thyne as they stumbled back from the reverberations through mortar and stone all around them. She inhaled, her heart trembling under each beat. She arched her back, lifting her torso back over her knees. Splaying her fingers, Ulrika unleashed another roar that she nearly choked on. She could feel the power rattle down each vertebrae, and through an extension of her spine that she didn't have - a tail.
After the sound faded, fatigue dropped her on her hip, panting.
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