Helga clutches the centaur’s shoulder in a vice-like grip and stares him straight in the eyes. “By all the gods,” she rasps like a knife scraping flesh from bone, “I will eat your bikkja raw and…” The centaur punches her hard in the face, knocking her off her feet and cutting her off as the half-dryad claps her hands together with glee. Kat and Akantha gasp as Helga staggers and falls, gripping the edge of the table, her aura fading to yellow. The Dionysians stand over her, laughing triumphantly.
Comments
Please login to comment.
Login or Register${ comment.author }} at
${ comment.author }} at