WEST COAST SMOKER ; weekly task, fighting lessons

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★  I NEVER HAD NOBODY TOUCH ME LIKE I’M G L A S S WITH A MOON BIRD KISS

...Fighting. Hazel had near completely forgotten about combat with her lack of knowledge in foreign relations. Still, she supposed it had always been a dreaded concept in the back of her mind, knowing that one day she might have to draw blood from another. The shudder that slid down her spine at the thought was undoubtedly one of weakness, but Hazel wasn’t ready for that yet. Hell, she could hardly handle little touches as it was. The anomaly of her letting Bastille hug her was a trip between her panic attack and the creation of the bond, rendering Hazel so confused and turned around she’d latched on to the first thing she could touch, letting it ground her.

She wouldn’t be useful in this, anyway. Margaery had already approached her with the concept of defense training, and Hazel had turned it down, knowing that while it was for her benefit, she just...wasn’t ready.

Or you’re just a useless baby, but. What do I know? The voice in her head sighed, leering. Hazel ignored her words physically, but could feel the self depreciation seep into her bones anyway, fitting itself snugly next to her drained energy. “I’ll...just watch, if that’s okay, Suite.” Hazel mumbled to the white feline, ducking her head. Hopefully she could at least have the stomach to watch.

★ — hazel — "speech" — eight months — the ascendants — tags — ★

[sup]c) miithers[/sup]