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This is a continuation of Unwelcome Guests, Part the Third for my "More Please" tag.
The girls knew what to do. They had fought to defend their property - their home - before. Hell, they had been fighters long before they met Baram.
The trees knew what to do, but Baram didn't think too hard about that. He let them grab the woman in the lead, while he went for the guy that was probably their tank. Shit, shit, the second bitch was a fireball-thrower; he moved the tank between him and the thin, ashen girl and kept hitting.
It was a quick fight, Jaelie and Via hitting from the walls, shooting rowan bullets and hawthorn arrows, the trees doing their share of damage, and Baram in the middle of the fight like some sort of bull in a china shop.
The bikers were fae, but they weren't organized, and they weren't all that good at being fae - except the ashen one he'd thought was a bitch, the fireball thrower. Baram took her down hard, broke her jaw and pinned her wrists with a hawthorn arrow.
( Read more... )
The girls knew what to do. They had fought to defend their property - their home - before. Hell, they had been fighters long before they met Baram.
The trees knew what to do, but Baram didn't think too hard about that. He let them grab the woman in the lead, while he went for the guy that was probably their tank. Shit, shit, the second bitch was a fireball-thrower; he moved the tank between him and the thin, ashen girl and kept hitting.
It was a quick fight, Jaelie and Via hitting from the walls, shooting rowan bullets and hawthorn arrows, the trees doing their share of damage, and Baram in the middle of the fight like some sort of bull in a china shop.
The bikers were fae, but they weren't organized, and they weren't all that good at being fae - except the ashen one he'd thought was a bitch, the fireball thrower. Baram took her down hard, broke her jaw and pinned her wrists with a hawthorn arrow.
( Read more... )
