[As G'raha closes his eyes, he will feel a breeze brush past his face, rustling his hair. The scrape of something razor-like that tears through the front of his clothes. It barely touches the skin, the swipe so controlled that it will only leave dashes deep enough to draw the smallest trickles of blood and leave behind a sharp sting.
If he chooses to open them, he'll see her eyes linger on him for a moment, just a beat, before there is a violent beat of her wings to lift her.
No more of this one. No more. He came too close and she cannot risk him stopping her now. Not when she can taste the destruction on her fangs.
He should consider this a mercy that all she is leaving him with is a mere scratch for all of that.
The tree that had been looming over them shatters as she flies through it, a taloned wing tearing the top of it into pieces as she suddenly takes to the skies, leaving G'raha there to fend for himself against the winds and the guardians of the nest that may come to find him.]
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If he chooses to open them, he'll see her eyes linger on him for a moment, just a beat, before there is a violent beat of her wings to lift her.
No more of this one. No more. He came too close and she cannot risk him stopping her now. Not when she can taste the destruction on her fangs.
He should consider this a mercy that all she is leaving him with is a mere scratch for all of that.
The tree that had been looming over them shatters as she flies through it, a taloned wing tearing the top of it into pieces as she suddenly takes to the skies, leaving G'raha there to fend for himself against the winds and the guardians of the nest that may come to find him.]