Hideaway Strath IV

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Nyra is a huge bitch

 

Added disclaimer! Nyra is making assumptions about Simmik and being violated BUT doesn't really know about what happened! 

At Donovan saying her own name. Her own FUCKING name, as a warning, Nyra was surprised.

Not as hurt as she would be in a minute though.

Upon seeing Simmik raise a smug brow, Nyra smirked with rivaling smugness in return, and scoffed. Furthering by making it so she could hear her when she said "You're not special, cunt. He's slept with a lot of wolves and loves them all equally. Not just the likes of you. Don't think your rancid vulva is the only one he's after, let alone a special one, sweet cheeks." 
And she made damn sure to sound as airy, bitchy and condescending as possible to Simmik as she said it.
By the time she said it though, Kynareth had LONG since already threatened her with a demotion if she joined the physical fray as Whrist threw herself at Ego. 
 
So, she stayed put as she was ordered, but she also pulled a most likely irreversible card by saying her next words with metal-melting, searing cruelty to her smaller mirror image "I'd say you should watch your back, but there's clearly already someone who pile-drove into it. Probably didn't even violate you like it seems you'd claim he did. And there's another who's working up to fucking you too, but you know that already, don't you?" Nyra wore a cruel Cheshire grin as she purred her words for only Simmik to hear, a grin that was also with fully bared teeth and murderous intent weaved in with big, bold letters. 

She still didn't move.
But, she'd sure as shit gladly rip Simmik's throat out if the smug cur moved to attack her. 

By the time she was done slashing at Simmik verbally, Derg was coming closer. Leigh's comment was lost to Nyra, for she was speaking when Leigh did. 

Nyra was not sorry, and would never be sorry.
Especially if she was the one to make the life leave Simmik's eyes for good. 

With a dismissively sharp snort, she seared one last glare of masked hurt toward her Grandmaster. One that would stay present until he met her eyes whenever, after he had neutralized Whrist. 

Anger was a cruel master, one she needed to usurp. But right now, it had its talons in her deep, and she was bloodlusting.