[Wild Roses] beginning of an arc
Title: rush
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Nicolai Sabaey
Prompt: 88A "this place"
Word Count: 177
Rating: no young children
Notes: The first war's opposition, before he became said. Followed by collared.
He took a very slow breath, trying to keep his hands from shaking, just in case. The dragon didn't move, though, tipped up onto its back legs and about to pounce forward, fangs longer than his hands frozen in a snarl.
It was stupid, and he knew it even as he did it, but he straightened up and took a shaky step forward, looking up at what would have been his death, given another racing heartbeat.
Even that little bit closer, it didn't move, and the texture of the scaled body was different than that of a living animal. Less that of something that might take a breath, and more that of some fine-grained stone cut into terrifying warning shape.
He'd done that. Reacted in surprise and terror when the roar had sounded through the cavern he'd been walking in, flung up his hands and yanked at the threads surrounding them as the dragon reared.
He'd killed something that might--or might not--have been sentient, before it could kill him.
Why did it make him feel so guilty?
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Nicolai Sabaey
Prompt: 88A "this place"
Word Count: 177
Rating: no young children
Notes: The first war's opposition, before he became said. Followed by collared.
He took a very slow breath, trying to keep his hands from shaking, just in case. The dragon didn't move, though, tipped up onto its back legs and about to pounce forward, fangs longer than his hands frozen in a snarl.
It was stupid, and he knew it even as he did it, but he straightened up and took a shaky step forward, looking up at what would have been his death, given another racing heartbeat.
Even that little bit closer, it didn't move, and the texture of the scaled body was different than that of a living animal. Less that of something that might take a breath, and more that of some fine-grained stone cut into terrifying warning shape.
He'd done that. Reacted in surprise and terror when the roar had sounded through the cavern he'd been walking in, flung up his hands and yanked at the threads surrounding them as the dragon reared.
He'd killed something that might--or might not--have been sentient, before it could kill him.
Why did it make him feel so guilty?