Quiet The Longing

[Preliat Mantis]

He thought of it so quickly. Moving the table upwards, letting the table connect with her abdomen. Pulling her head down by the hair atop her head, he slammed her head directly into the desk. He watched as the blood flew from her nose and into the air around him. As her head recoiled upwards, he threw a vicious punch to her neck, hoping to crush something hard enough to cause her to choke herself to death. He would repeat it several times, ensuring that Hazel in fact, would be dead, or dying before she could react. He'd then have to take care of her dog, meaning that frisking her body for any weapons.

Preliat blinked, and came back to reality.

Hazel was just standing up to call her dog to come to her. Not trying to kill him."Strength is arbitrary in most situations, truth be told."He said, taking a few deep breaths to contemplate the reality that he almost tried to kill Hazel- just for standing up."Sometimes it takes more violence than strength."

He suppressed a grin. He waited for her to spring the trap.

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

 

[Hazel Scheler]

A quiet glance aside, not quite connecting with the man's shadow in the cabin. Hazel wasn't sure why but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing right on end. Broad shoulders rolled and shrugged off the feeling, putting it to the back of her mind for now.

"Maybe," she said in reply, waiting to hear something that might tell her the beast was on his way back. Nothing so far.

"But there's always a bigger fish," feth, she really could use a smoke right now. Hazel dropped her heels down the few steps of his porch and began a slow walk out towards the dirt road and the field beyond. Somewhere out there in the grasses was her hound. She gave another long, high-pitched whistle.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

"Is the beast usually gone for such a long while, Miss Hazel?"Preliat said, moving his gaze to the doorframe, then watching her depart. He followed along silently, not a damn near sound as he moved along the gravel. The secret was both practice and to roll his feet outward. Allowed for a nice quiet stroll.


And to slit throats when you needed to."I do hope he wasn't eaten. He grew on me in our brief time together. Should I fetch the rifle?"

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]