Post by Deleted on Jun 24, 2014 15:38:52 GMT -5
A small part of the yearling, a very tiny kernel deep down inside her very core, reveled in the fight that occurred before her. That part of her struggled to be heard. They were fighters, they were killers. Everything about their anatomy and the way they thought lead to fighting and death. Even hunting was full of brutality. This was much the same, right? A hunt, or a play at one. Even when she was only wrestling in play, the kernel argued, it was practice for exactly this. It chilled her to the bone to realize this subtle feeling was prodding her mind. Overall, she was terrified. Misdirected anger had happened a lot from her father. Though he'd never hurt her growing up he had snapped in his old age. If he'd done it, anyone could. Anyone could turn on her. She slunk into the tree line to watch silently. She wanted no part of this fight and no part of who would win. ((ooc: sorry for a short post, she's an observer for now and I'm content waiting for the fight to end before posting much, she'll mostly just be brooding to herself)) |