Broken Boulder what would my head be like

Do you know what Dad did to me?  Furiously, she matched his height.  Her tail whipped behind her, and her eyes were intense, twinkling and queerly lit as she angled her face down, the soft features casting sharp, foreboding shadows. 

I was Celia.  Her words were quiet, but each syllable was defined and punctuated.  I lived what she lived through, I saw what she saw.  I felt what she felt.  She drew her tongue across her lips slowly, took a step forward.  She angled her face so that one simmering orange orb was boring directly at her brother.

They raped me.  Lanawyn had lived through atrocities that Zamael would never have to witness, that Alarian had never had to digest.  I know what she went through better than I hope you ever will.

She crumbled.