Cerulean Cape Covered my soul with grit and coal

Though interested in goading him, Furiosa was in no condition at present to receive any new wounds on his behalf; it explained why she hung back, just outside of his lunging range, after dauntlessly coming forward. Her damaged tail lifted, proud as if it were a peacock's full plumage, and it swung slowly back and forth as her hungry black eyes took him in. "I thought surely you'd have turned to dust by now," she "complimented" him. "Or at least fossilized." Her opinion of him vastly differed from his opinion of her, mainly because her primary wants included eating, fighting, and reproducing. Not only could he care for himself— which spoke volumes to the prowess of a single wolf— but he had also bested her in battle, which was an immeasurably attractive aspect for the feral rogue. Had not the militant, dark  zeus been so utterly disinterested in her, she would have snobbishly bore him a few goblins offspring already.


"Maybe it's a good thing you haven't," the wretch added ominously behind an equally sharkish smile.