I DIED IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT ☆ poet

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[glow=#000,1,400]WHO'S WEAPON IS HIS WORD, HE WILL KILL YOU WITH HIS TONGUE, O LEI, O LAI, O LORD — [abbr=tags]｡+ﾟ.[/abbr][/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 13px;"]a puff of air left him and he turned his head towards his brother, forcing his head under his brothers and just trying to calm himself down. he kept getting warmer, the stress of the conversation bringing on a fever that could possibly last days. he probably wouldn't be able to sleep until it went down, knowing how easily a fainting spell could be brought on.. and the fear that he might die from it. all he did was give a strained hum, digging his long claws into the floorboards.