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- Where Legends Gather
- The Bestial Huntress
- v 0.2
- 6.6.14
- A quick, rapid spear pierces through the air.
- A spear from the darkness of the jungle.
- Only the skillful, timely dodge of a true warrior
- Could avoid the sting of that projectile.
- A dame appears,
- A dame from the darkness,
- A dame of the wild,
- Scantily clad in wilderness leaves,
- In wild, white, war paint,
- And little leather garments.
- But a cheerful, seduced eye upon her
- Will surely lose to the quick
- Javelin
- That she throws again and
- Again.
- Her torso leans forward as she advances,
- She carries a spear in her right hand,
- Her left arm extends forward, hovers above the ground,
- Tracking the path of her prey,
- Prey that thinks itself clever,
- Prey that thinks itself
- Civilized.
- A belt of bones hugs her hips,
- Caresses her neck,
- And hangs from her ears,
- And they bounce and clatter and clunk with every stride.
- Every piece of ivory has its own story to tell,
- So she wears her hunting trophies proudly
- As if she were some sort of hotshot.
- Javelin.
- It seems her weakness lies in close quarters.
- After a good strike or two she cowers back into the fog,
- Whimpering like a--
- Javelin.
- But look she returns,
- And she mends her wounds in an aura
- Of a leaf-green primal surge.
- She enters the dark jungle, her movements screened by fog.
- It is the time to end this fray,
- To put down this--
- Javelin.
- She prowls along the wild paths,
- Hastened by tall grass, where surely she finds easy footing.
- This terrain must be home to--
- Whack.
- Must be home to--
- Javelin...
- These cursed woods are littered with bushwhacks,
- In trickery
- [v0.2]
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