"I can't run, I can't run. How can the majestic Dragon Clan flee without a fight in front of humans...!!"
Fafnir sat with her hands on her knees, mumbling quietly with her head bowed. To the uninformed, she seemed like an introverted teenager forced to pilot a giant demonic puppet and grapple with angels in a suicidal queue before devouring them.
Fafnir wasn't a problem child who would spew phrases like "an unseen ceiling" as soon as she woke up - this wasn't a demonic puppet's cockpit filled with amniotic fluid.
"Who did it? Who dared to put on my pants?!"
"The script! The script is gone!"
"It's under your butt, blockhead!"
"Oh heavens! Just look at the mess these idiots have made!"
...
