He stood there. He dared to stand there and proudly proclaim his words for all passers by to hear. “You continue to live in fear. In open defiance of a greater being. But I ask you this: why fear that which can make you stronger? Why not embrace the ultimate spirit? Transcend your existence and forge your legend with Jormag!” The man spread his arms wide.

Pyri ground her teeth. No. She was better than this, now. Better than the itch beneath her skin that begged to be petty and punch the sexist idiot in the mouth. Better than the insecure need to prove her worth despite her size. She took a deep breath and resumed walking.

“Ice fortifies. Ice protects.”

I don’t randomly start fights anymore. I’m calm and in control. I-

Ah, fuck it.

“You know what else ice does? It fucking melts.” Pyri spat on his boots.

“What was that, you undersized bi-“

The petite warrior leaped at the stranger, unclipping her torch from her belt and beating him aside the head with it. “IT FUCKING MELTS, YOU USELESS LIMP DICK. TAKE THAT TO YOUR DRAGON AND SHOVE IT UP HIS ASS.” 

When the man was laying dazed and bloody on the ground, Pyri stalked off. Perhaps her people were willing to tolerate the Sons of Svanir and their nonsense, but Pyri had never been possessed of a great amount of patience and understanding. 

Author Ambrosine
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