She thought she was alone, in the arena, facing the jackals; in their eyes was pitiless hunger; longing to devour her. All she could see in her left hand was a small bagful of stale memories and tricks that always pretended to work before... but none of them could help her this time. The bag fell like dead weight from her hand and shriveled into the sand
( ... )
At the very moment the knife falls a deafening shout is heard from the silent man. Guises vanish and I see before me Love, now looking as an ivory tower of majesty and strenght weilding a huge sword. Suave, shreiking, drops his prey and draws barbed mace; the rich robe he wore a moment ago suddenly seems a skimpy rag insufficient to cover his atrocity. Even from where I am I can see old wounds now on him that never healed. Savior does not even seem to be weilding the sword, his nail peirced hands are enough of a reminder to the demonic host around him that they cannot even stand in his presence... Brighter than light of day it seemed to come streaming across her face to her. Terror and awe in eyes wild around her
( ... )
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\\\I won't ask it, instead, pseudostory time.
She thought she was alone, in the arena, facing the jackals; in their eyes was pitiless hunger; longing to devour her. All she could see in her left hand was a small bagful of stale memories and tricks that always pretended to work before... but none of them could help her this time. The bag fell like dead weight from her hand and shriveled into the sand ( ... )
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