Wild Berry Meadow i am without a heart

So it was to be like that, then. She would not shy from the threat of teeth, or from the possiblity of bloodshed. Her home sat nestled in these wilds, its peak spearing the clouds behind the devil-woman. She did not need to glance at mountain to be passionate about her protection of it, unflinching as those jaws came close to her in rapid — and rabid — succession.

Her circle broke, instead making a dash straight through, looking to land a solid pinch on that dark haunch. A bruise would no doubt be left behind, a welt if she was lucky. This was no game; the next blow would seek blood, the one after that, she would aim for death, progressively climbing the ladder of escalation.