Swiftcurrent Creek lovesick i got that fever

It was her, anger ridden and all, her face as undone as her wits as she lunged for him, to taste speckles of ivory tasting blood in her mouth, to relish in him. No, it couldn't be. But there was no time to react. No time to counter her, for he had been foolish. In the last moments of Awol, he would be afraid, regretful, and angry. Everythign he had wished would go away with time. Anyone close to him who would lurk about on the pitiful end would cry misty waterfalls for him, as he was caught between the river and and angered fae. . .