Well t h a t certainly explains it (the nameless mass that laid in a heap ‘pon the floor.) Gore is painted in splendorous sheen across visage true and fingers trail through sanguine hue that coats the surrounding objects akin to dust. The … questionable construct which had been so-far made from various (unrecognizable, AND unmentionable) body parts. The form which they were attempting to take was rather… ambiguous, at best. It looked more like a meaty worm than a dragon.
A finger raises to point out a certain point of discretion on the meat-mound, as a silent word of advice.
( ‘Don’t you think it would look far better if that severed arm were moved further to the right?’ )
❝ Humans have no concept of territorial boundaries. Do you? ❞
Perplexity dawns in features darkened by sun and wear, umber brows drawn taut. Still, there’s a reflexive snap of fingers at the hostility noted in forborne timbre of the stranger, stiffening straits of muscle and digits that clench fast ‘gainst calloused palms. And though she gazes onwards with nary a word spoken, the routing roll of shoulders as spine lengthens for her full height to be achieved is clear. Stance affirmed is not bellicose in nature, but, rather, wary; she’d no sooner harm them than they would find worthy to do her harm. (And, unfortunately, the bitter harsh of words that assaulted her eardrums seemed to breathe enmity —- an attack was not so fanciful a notion.)
