06-15-2020, 12:20 AM
Teach a child to lie from the moment that they take a breath, and they will not think twice about lying to their teachers' faces.
Brunhilde remembers this. Watching her father lie. Watching her mother lie. Wondering why all she is left with is a bad attitude and worse life.
Sure, she was brattier back then. Fiesty and angry and unyielding. But she deserved the kind of attention her parents' gave their love lives and as Brun got older, she realized this.
And it made her so deeply, deeply angry.
Now, stalking furiously through tightly-woven trees, Brunhilde looks the picture of revenge. Vibrantly built of flame while carrying a gaze that could kill: she is nearly the femme fatale she was before her hallucinogenic pregnancy (and before the time with -- she can't even say his name).
Brun hisses, flicking her mane over her neck and beckoning the fire to alight each luscious hair. Here, amongst tugging branches and desperate thorns, is a particularly touch place to carry an impossibly long mane. As she passes summery foliage, her locks light the greenery aflame.
Brunhilde remembers this. Watching her father lie. Watching her mother lie. Wondering why all she is left with is a bad attitude and worse life.
Sure, she was brattier back then. Fiesty and angry and unyielding. But she deserved the kind of attention her parents' gave their love lives and as Brun got older, she realized this.
And it made her so deeply, deeply angry.
Now, stalking furiously through tightly-woven trees, Brunhilde looks the picture of revenge. Vibrantly built of flame while carrying a gaze that could kill: she is nearly the femme fatale she was before her hallucinogenic pregnancy (and before the time with -- she can't even say his name).
Brun hisses, flicking her mane over her neck and beckoning the fire to alight each luscious hair. Here, amongst tugging branches and desperate thorns, is a particularly touch place to carry an impossibly long mane. As she passes summery foliage, her locks light the greenery aflame.
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