[ Hama yelps but doesn't let go of the knife. She's not like the warriors, not like Kol at all even though he might have been her father. In a fight she'll crumble, the others say, and so she's never been allowed to start one. At least not with knives. Your bones are weak, child. Not her fault but it makes her lesser in ways that seem glaringly obvious now. Not enough calcium when she was a baby, not enough to grow big and strong. Shayla said that sort of thing doesn't matter, that it was a trick the watchers would throw down at her and nothing more, but now Hama's met someone big and strong and it sure feels like it fucking matters.
Well. Maybe not so big.
The woman is fast, though, fast as Kol. But she hasn't done anything, not really, and so maybe—
Hama lowers the knife. Her heart pounds in her throat. ]
no subject
Well. Maybe not so big.
The woman is fast, though, fast as Kol. But she hasn't done anything, not really, and so maybe—
Hama lowers the knife. Her heart pounds in her throat. ]
You're strong.
[ She lets herself sound awed. ]