Mom called it butchery but… Markos watched the way his mother fluidly moved from one opponent to the next. She wastes no movement. Brutal, Efficient. But still, it is all together beautiful. Is this why all of her comrades fell in love with her? She's like a storm herself. Something to admire and survive but not something to restrain.
Krista let out a controlled breath, adjusting her posture with a wild glint in her golden eyes. A smirk played across her lips as she sized up the creatures that formed the newest line of opposition. There were far fewer of these undead entities than the minions they had already defeated. Her gaze flicked to Markos, at once commanding him and challenging him.
Her words echoed in his ears.
Let's see if you can keep up!
