Every beat of my heart is in rhythm with the swinging of my bow. I threatened anyone that dares get near me with my deadly, sharp edges. Driven by madness, I managed to cause more casualties than I expected, but my focus stays with the azure-eyed faun.
He brutally slaughters anyone that goes against him, and he never backs down. My father is injured, the faun's blade touched my father's thighs, but he still fights. He tries to catch up with the faun that continues to take steps closer to me.
I do not run away in fear that I shall be meeting him face to face; I make my way forward. The cut on my neck is stinging, and I feel the blood trickling down. That's not an issue now since splashes of gore are all over my dress.
What am I doing? Why am I pushing it?
