explosiveKitten
Fanfic Kitty
The dance was fluid, graceful... and Maroluna was having an absolute BLAST.
It was so rare that she ever find this many people to dance with, but when she did, HO! It was the dance of a lifetime! Literally, lifetime. Because it is SUPER DANGEROUS.
This many angry Forsworn would gladly rip her pelt from her body and use it as a rug for their creepy torture dungeons, but an experienced thief and close-quarters fighter such as herself was just toying with them.
Two Reachmen charged in her direction from opposite, flanking positions, teeth-studded clubs and bone-blades raised in challenge. She stood there, keenly aware of their positions in relation to her own, waiting till exactly the right moment to roll out of the way, causing the two to collide. While one was still reeling, the Khajiit gleefully took her balled fist and threw a punch directly into the face of one.
The first Reachmen recovered and attempted to hit her with his club, only for her to side-step his attack and take the heel of her hand right to his Adam’s Apple, causing the man to cough violently and drop the weapon in sheer shock. With her other hand she extended her claws and swiped over his face, blinding him.
Searing pain tore up her back. She turned with a yowl of pain as the Forsworn she previously punched in the face had finished one big, jagged swipe in a diagonal down her back. Oooohhh, that was going to be a terror to deal with.
The young Khajiiti woman hissed angrily, muzzle wrinkling angrily as she flashed her teeth at him.
“You’re not even worth making into a rug, CAT!”
“By Azura, can you stupid humans come up with a DIFFERENT INSULT?!”
She hissed, crouching low and pouncing on him.
“Rug this, rug that, can’t you ever be original?!”
The two tumbled head over heels, the young woman hissing and spitting as she knocked the weapon out of the Forsworn’s hand, leading the two into a wrestling match. At first it seemed the large man would be at a clear advantage, but the tiny Khajiit was just too nimble for him, easily predicting his moves and countering them faster than he could readjust. He ended up face down on the ground, beaten up, but fortunately for him, not dead.
She huffed an exhale and shook her head, flipping a little spit and blood off her face before a chill spread up her spine quite literally as a Forsworn mage charged at her, spewing a Frostbite spell from her hand.
This is too much. I should just cut my losses and run. She thought angrily, growling in frustration before turning on her heel and running away, taking off like a shot on all fours, away from the battle. She didn’t care if she hadn’t found the Briar Heart. At least she wouldn’t be dead if she left now.
“PISS OFF!”
Her ears swiveled at the semi-familiar voice of the Dawnguard hunter, and she turned her head to look at him. His fight was far from over, but hell, he was wearing heavy plate armor! What did she care? He was probably gonna be fine. She was prepared to just keep running, but then... HE appeared.
The Briar Heart. The entire reason she came here.
Her path changes very suddenly with a rapid twist of her tail as she watched the Imperial struggle for his life, her eyes hyper focused on the burly man with the void in his chest.
When the werewolf dashed passed her, she slowed to less of a mad dash and more of a curious trot as the werewolf began to... defend her previous assailant. Oh what a turn of events!
She watched from the sidelines, standing up full on her two legs to watch as the pair worked together, the Dawnguard delivering the final blow. The young Khajiit used the fight in front of her as distraction from the fiery pain in her back. Oh that wound was going to be a pain to dress later.
Once the Briarheart was dead, and the tension started to fill the air between the previous adversaries, the young Khajiit walked right between them without a care in the world and crouched beside the now dead Forsworn.
“... well, I hope you finally met your gods, whatever they may be.” She muttered as she reached in with her fingers and pulled the Briar Heart from the dead man’s chest cavity. “Agghhh, finally.”
When she stood with the little treasure in her hand, she turned to look at the two warriors and glanced back and forth at each one.
“... weeeeeelll, I got what I came here for, sooooo I’m gonna go ahead and... get going.... bye!” She turned to scamper away, only to have a rush of agony shoot up her spine as that damned wound on her back smarted and she stumbled, almost falling to her knees as a sudden light-headedness washed over her. Had she really bled that much? She couldn’t have. However, anyone looking at her back could tell it was a deep wound, and it would surely get infected quickly if not treated properly.
Whisker
Effloresce
It was so rare that she ever find this many people to dance with, but when she did, HO! It was the dance of a lifetime! Literally, lifetime. Because it is SUPER DANGEROUS.
This many angry Forsworn would gladly rip her pelt from her body and use it as a rug for their creepy torture dungeons, but an experienced thief and close-quarters fighter such as herself was just toying with them.
Two Reachmen charged in her direction from opposite, flanking positions, teeth-studded clubs and bone-blades raised in challenge. She stood there, keenly aware of their positions in relation to her own, waiting till exactly the right moment to roll out of the way, causing the two to collide. While one was still reeling, the Khajiit gleefully took her balled fist and threw a punch directly into the face of one.
The first Reachmen recovered and attempted to hit her with his club, only for her to side-step his attack and take the heel of her hand right to his Adam’s Apple, causing the man to cough violently and drop the weapon in sheer shock. With her other hand she extended her claws and swiped over his face, blinding him.
Searing pain tore up her back. She turned with a yowl of pain as the Forsworn she previously punched in the face had finished one big, jagged swipe in a diagonal down her back. Oooohhh, that was going to be a terror to deal with.
The young Khajiiti woman hissed angrily, muzzle wrinkling angrily as she flashed her teeth at him.
“You’re not even worth making into a rug, CAT!”
“By Azura, can you stupid humans come up with a DIFFERENT INSULT?!”
She hissed, crouching low and pouncing on him.
“Rug this, rug that, can’t you ever be original?!”
The two tumbled head over heels, the young woman hissing and spitting as she knocked the weapon out of the Forsworn’s hand, leading the two into a wrestling match. At first it seemed the large man would be at a clear advantage, but the tiny Khajiit was just too nimble for him, easily predicting his moves and countering them faster than he could readjust. He ended up face down on the ground, beaten up, but fortunately for him, not dead.
She huffed an exhale and shook her head, flipping a little spit and blood off her face before a chill spread up her spine quite literally as a Forsworn mage charged at her, spewing a Frostbite spell from her hand.
This is too much. I should just cut my losses and run. She thought angrily, growling in frustration before turning on her heel and running away, taking off like a shot on all fours, away from the battle. She didn’t care if she hadn’t found the Briar Heart. At least she wouldn’t be dead if she left now.
“PISS OFF!”
Her ears swiveled at the semi-familiar voice of the Dawnguard hunter, and she turned her head to look at him. His fight was far from over, but hell, he was wearing heavy plate armor! What did she care? He was probably gonna be fine. She was prepared to just keep running, but then... HE appeared.
The Briar Heart. The entire reason she came here.
Her path changes very suddenly with a rapid twist of her tail as she watched the Imperial struggle for his life, her eyes hyper focused on the burly man with the void in his chest.
When the werewolf dashed passed her, she slowed to less of a mad dash and more of a curious trot as the werewolf began to... defend her previous assailant. Oh what a turn of events!
She watched from the sidelines, standing up full on her two legs to watch as the pair worked together, the Dawnguard delivering the final blow. The young Khajiit used the fight in front of her as distraction from the fiery pain in her back. Oh that wound was going to be a pain to dress later.
Once the Briarheart was dead, and the tension started to fill the air between the previous adversaries, the young Khajiit walked right between them without a care in the world and crouched beside the now dead Forsworn.
“... well, I hope you finally met your gods, whatever they may be.” She muttered as she reached in with her fingers and pulled the Briar Heart from the dead man’s chest cavity. “Agghhh, finally.”
When she stood with the little treasure in her hand, she turned to look at the two warriors and glanced back and forth at each one.
“... weeeeeelll, I got what I came here for, sooooo I’m gonna go ahead and... get going.... bye!” She turned to scamper away, only to have a rush of agony shoot up her spine as that damned wound on her back smarted and she stumbled, almost falling to her knees as a sudden light-headedness washed over her. Had she really bled that much? She couldn’t have. However, anyone looking at her back could tell it was a deep wound, and it would surely get infected quickly if not treated properly.
Whisker
Effloresce
