I heaved, my hands gripped my axe as I leaned on it, like it was my last life line. I saw the blood on my hands, on my chest and lower body. I retched violently again, heaving up bile and spit.
By God... I- I had- fuck me... I had ripped her arm off! By Ssecpseset, her fucking arm! The feel of her joint detaching, of the effort of ripping muscles and fat and-
I collapsed onto my hands, and retched. Nothing came out, but my body didn't care. I heaved in breaths. My body hurt, I was dizzy. My teeth ached, my muscles burned. My mouth tasted of bile. I was tired, but my body wouldn't still.
I had done... done what I had out of logic, expediency. I was proven right, when they broke and fled, but it was only a consolation. I was... disgusted.
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She had been small, light, even by human standards. She had brown hare and green eyes. Her eyes wide and rolling as-as...
I regretted my actions. They were... barbaric. I knew I was strong, but... it shouldn't have been so easy. I- I am so tired...
My arms collapse, and I slam into the ground. My sight fades, and soon, I dream of a woman, and her haunting howls of agony.
I woke up in my bed, and I shuddered. My head whipped around, looking at everything and nothing. My heart raced, and my breathing was shallow and rapid.
A knock sounded out, and I looked at the door. My door... My home... I... was home? How? The last thing I remember was... falling unconscious...
The door opened, and my father slid in. His orange scales freshly polished, his clothing older, but comfortable. When he sees me awake, he rushes me, and slams into me. I leaned back, taking in the sudden weight, before straightening. He was, hugging me...?
I shuddered, and slowly returned the hug. I strengthened my grip, as he hissed comfortingly. I shuddered again, and began to softly keen in sadness, upset, and more. I was home. I was safe. I was so, so upset. But... dad was here... and it would be enough. I hope...

