Hoshor Plains You hit me once, I hit you back.

the boy is thrown like trash to the side, and for a moment a strike of fear pulses in the quickened beat of the viper. if a man as large as he could be thrown about with little effort, she imagined she would be no more than a toothpick to snap for the wicked wretch.

the boy ran, and the raged gaze of the beastly woman fell to the sylphlike frame of nephele. she drank in the fury of it as if it were a sweet wine just teasing the tip of her tongue. muscles tensed, and she prepared for what attack would come.

but in the next beat fjall is beside her, and then masa. the larger of the men takes the woman to size, and the lashing of her pearly tail turns to that of a whip.

disdain brews in the boiling pit of her gaze, a thick mixture laced with the poison of a pit viper. and in such serpentine ways, she slithers forward to seethe a hiss, her aim set to clip the woman's heels while the virago's focus is set upon the samurai.

but before any strike from her could be delivered, the barreling figure of her husband pushes to the front lines. his words were a kindness she would not have granted. and lest the message that rung through the air was not clear enough, nephele spat her own choice of instructions to the wretch.

"fuck. off."