Witch's Marsh Now what you've done

And Noah plucked the olive branch from the Dove's beak.
Or rather, the girl hungrily took the poison from Death's lips.
He closed his eyes at her tough to hide his eyes rolling back.
So pretty.

He moved forward with a devilish look and took her scruff, pulling her free from the mud with no ounce of mercy. There was nothing Motherlike about his grip which dug into her skin and he hauled her away from the mud to his high ground.
Her kicking should make the effects of the poppies set in quicker.

He let her go when they were on the tougher ground, sulking around her like a crow to a fallen foe. Ready to finish the job.