Liz looked down, it was Maia. She reached behind her, grabbed her machete and flung herself from the tree, landing on top of Maia. "Ugh!" cried, Liz, reaching for her side. In the fall Maia's dagger hit her in the side. "D*mnit!" she cried, looking at her red hand as she removed it from her side. Liz swiftly, yet in pain, got off of Maia and held her machete out.
"I suggest you don't attack me, I'm even more dangerous when injured."
The stories people often tell about us, that we never knew but their existence will float away. Just like every word they say and we will hold hands as they fade.
I'm that weird, RaeyneTheRiott.x, girl. Remember me?