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As the blood-stained staff rose, Saeryn's fear rose with it. She could not understand what this man was doing, ruining her first bit of comfortable belonging. Pure rage replaced her nerves, fizzing through every vein and causing a stream of curses she'd forgotten she knew to run through her head. For a moment, the image of a straw-haired hostler, ruddy cheeked and handsome, ran through her head. She saw a pretty red haired teenage girl throw her arms about his neck and kiss his cheek. Resolving to think about the image later, Saeryn of the Folde did perhaps the stupidest thing of her life: she broke away from the firm hold of her brother and leapt upon the man, Rand.
"No!" she screamed, flying for him.
It was pure surprise more than anything that stopped him. Assuredly it had not been her weight as her slender frame could not have weighed all that much over a hundred pounds. With a swift gesture, Rand slammed the girl away from him and into Degas, looking blankly at her. The room went dead silent as she stood clutching her still tender ribs and breathing heavily. She breathlessly muttered a curse, murmering to her brother. "That really hurt." she whispered as she stared foggily up at the man, waiting to see if her rashness and anger had just gotten her killed.
Last edited by Feanor of the Peredhil; 05-09-2005 at 08:14 PM.
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