𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬.

( their shoulders hunch up further, body curled and coiled as if prepared to fight or flee. neither was a good option but they didn't have a third. ) ... sorry to burst your bubble, but if I die, some people have dibs on my soul. You won't get to decide what I turn into.

( tail lashes long back and forth behind them, whipping up dust as ichor seeps through their fingers, the muscle trembling as their growl raises to an echoing in their chest. a clamoring of irritation. ) I can shut up, sure. But respect isn't what you'll get out of me, mémère.

( lacerations are never a gentle feeling. hard burn and sting of the cut as their hand comes to clasp over the wound, a gush of blood blooming forth in bright red as they press their palm to the opening, easily worth stitches. their shoulders hunch, teeth clenched & growling. )

Then it seems we're at an impasse. Oh well.

( urk—— 💧) Sorry I don't just lay down and accept insults.

Gender neutral people are fine with gender neutral things, how about that, you hag.