Day 17 of Summer, AV 511 It happened, again. Sheika was surprised, but not shocked, not wracked with fear, not manipulated by the cowardice that once torqued his body is its vicious coils in a situation like this. Except, he was only in a similar situation, not identical. If it was identical, he would have been considered a prophet, predicting everything that occured, and that simply was not the case. Dhani, oh how he hated Dhani. Sheika had been struggling with his many wars in this jungle, wars that most Myrians never experienced. A war with himself. He had become dependent on his mother, her headpiece that awoke latent powers, fighting prowess, and clear thinking from deep down inside him, but not he thought that his mother's likeness was starting to take him over. It was like Spiritism in a way, using a ghost to learn about a ghost, yet the ghost could also use you if you opened up too much to it. Sheika must have been mad. He was staring down a Dhani, perhaps only a Viper, but still a Dhani. Sheika had managed to trail her for a few miles until she decided to shift into her human form, which, Sheika knew, meant she was a bit more vulnerable. A slip of the foot later, and the two of them were completely aware of each other, naked Dhani Woman, and next-to-naked Myrian weilding a knife. The two of them fought for what felt like hours for Sheika, yet it was only about two minutes. Sheika was wild with rage, not at the Dhani herself, but at his mother, at Myri, and he couldn't understand why. Now wasn't the time to figure this out. It was only the time to fight for his life, and her death. But she was swift, agile, balanced. Every wild swing of the blade or stab with the knife missed by half a mile as she danced, teasing with her new friend with a song of hissing and taunting giggles. Sheika felt like he could have done this all day, and that lasted until she began to fight back. A swift kick to knock him down, a swift claw to his face with her nails, which was more of an insult than true injury. Then it got violent. A blow to the head with a stone in hand and Sheika was stumbling to the ground, breathing heavily as his dagger went tumbling from his grasp. He was dazed, and only maaged to look up from his kneeling position before he was struck again by that solid stone. And again. And again. Sheika lost count when he lost consciousness. Surely now, he was a goner. Sleep was forced upon him, there was nothing stopping the Dhani now from finishing him off and doing whatever she wanted, which meant he was most likely to be supper. It sucked, to twice be killed by a snake woman. It seemed he was destined for this fate. |