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Description
"War of Change," by Thousand Foot Krutch
It's a truth that in love and war,
World's collide and hearts get broken,
I want to live like I know I'm dying,
Take up my cross, not be afraid.

It creeps in like a thief in the night,
Without a sign, without a warning,
But we are ready and prepared to fight,
Raise up your swords, don't be afraid.

--

I've a thing for beating up characters. ;u.

and that drawing is the definition of lazy pls

This image from her past, this being the part of her memory where she killed her brother.

"Her fangs met his claw. His strength opposed her speed. Her endurance rivaled his stealth. He had no mercy. Yet, she held to what he had. Because he didn't have it anymore. Tzahko was replaced. His breathe was no longer his, his mind was no longer pure, and his smile was now a grin. His teeth fell to the curtain of her fur, and his canines greeted the tissue of her skin that belonged to her right hind leg.
The lacerations his teeth incited were painful, but familiar. Fight or flight; the thought weaved in her conscious, gripping the reality that she would have to bring her own fang to him. She didn't remember much of it. But when that haze of oblivion was replaced by clarity, she almost liked the opaque blindness better.
Because sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
Blood held to her body, seeping through the gaps of fur, while Tzahko's greeted the ground that he resided on. Sanity seemed to line his dormant features, straining her own visage into a frown. Weakness crowded her throat, clenching the chasm on all ends as she succumbed her body to frame his, curling around his silent form.
Their blood intermingled; the one thing that they had left to share."

--

Z a c c a i;
fav.me/d7f5bmj
fav.me/d7fqr2n

Description
"War of Change," by Thousand Foot Krutch
It's a truth that in love and war,
World's collide and hearts get broken,
I want to live like I know I'm dying,
Take up my cross, not be afraid.

It creeps in like a thief in the night,
Without a sign, without a warning,
But we are ready and prepared to fight,
Raise up your swords, don't be afraid.

--

I've a thing for beating up characters. ;u.

and that drawing is the definition of lazy pls

This image from her past, this being the part of her memory where she killed her brother.

"Her fangs met his claw. His strength opposed her speed. Her endurance rivaled his stealth. He had no mercy. Yet, she held to what he had. Because he didn't have it anymore. Tzahko was replaced. His breathe was no longer his, his mind was no longer pure, and his smile was now a grin. His teeth fell to the curtain of her fur, and his canines greeted the tissue of her skin that belonged to her right hind leg.
The lacerations his teeth incited were painful, but familiar. Fight or flight; the thought weaved in her conscious, gripping the reality that she would have to bring her own fang to him. She didn't remember much of it. But when that haze of oblivion was replaced by clarity, she almost liked the opaque blindness better.
Because sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
Blood held to her body, seeping through the gaps of fur, while Tzahko's greeted the ground that he resided on. Sanity seemed to line his dormant features, straining her own visage into a frown. Weakness crowded her throat, clenching the chasm on all ends as she succumbed her body to frame his, curling around his silent form.
Their blood intermingled; the one thing that they had left to share."

--

Z a c c a i;
fav.me/d7f5bmj
fav.me/d7fqr2n