[The flash of light distracts her from the sensation that one of her lungs was filling with flaming lead; Flandre wheezes, and spits flecks of dark blood; the same color has started to make ugly blotches on her shirt. She was going to need some new clothes after all this.
But right now, she practically locks onto the soldier. And growls, hideously. Her wings, though shaking, propel her straight at him like a guided missile, claws raised.]
Daaad D8
But right now, she practically locks onto the soldier. And growls, hideously. Her wings, though shaking, propel her straight at him like a guided missile, claws raised.]