Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5704503-20151217033810/@comment-27147483-20151230211928

It seemed this guy was going to do whatever he could to keep Lark at a distance. And now he was trying to close her in. She had about two minutes to get out of the way. She made the motion to convert her axe into its other form as a rifle. Lark quickly remembered she hadn't greased the handle joint in weeks, but it was too late. The joint got stuck. The fire tornadoes were almost on her, and she had barely anyway to get out. She muted the noise in the room, then quietly murmurred to herself, "I'm dead, aren't I?"