Wrong. Gives her that same, crawling feeling, like spider's legs on the back of her neck.
The footsteps near. She steps around, from the upstairs bedroom into the hallway, sword at the ready. Her dirty blouse left in a pile on the floor while she was wiping herself down with a sheet from the bed, she's left in her bustier and trousers, though she doesn't particularly care.
She waits, listening to the steady, quiet steps nearing. A flicker of a shadow around the wall.
Expressionless and silent as death itself, Ciri slips around the corner sword-first, thrusting her blade confidently at chest height. ]
no subject
Wrong. Gives her that same, crawling feeling, like spider's legs on the back of her neck.
The footsteps near. She steps around, from the upstairs bedroom into the hallway, sword at the ready. Her dirty blouse left in a pile on the floor while she was wiping herself down with a sheet from the bed, she's left in her bustier and trousers, though she doesn't particularly care.
She waits, listening to the steady, quiet steps nearing. A flicker of a shadow around the wall.
Expressionless and silent as death itself, Ciri slips around the corner sword-first, thrusting her blade confidently at chest height. ]