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This was more like it. Yessiree the first sign of life in this godforsaken town for weeks. Days and days of wandering and casting spells that no one really seemed to notice (or care about) had started to really piss her off. That and the fact that she had lost her favourite shoes somewhere. The dragon was a perfect diversion for such a dismal night in such a dreadful place. Her only regret was that she hadn't thought to summon one herself. It was almost pitiable the way the two were scampering about. It's a dragon, fools. Run for your lives. Or, well, get a helicopter. Piloted by a bat out of hell. Under a full moon. And the proper alignment of Venus. Then you'll stand a fighting chance.
From her perch high up in the rafters, obscured by shadow and protected by fang, Tarot watched the proceedings. Her feet were bare and her hair was tied back by a single, sparkling black ribbon so the red wouldn't attract the attention of the beast far, far below. She liked fire and adored the flames, and, well... she had died once. It wouldn't be so bad to do it again, she supposed. But she was having to much fun to want to go out now.
Aim for the nose. She chuckled, twisting one of her many rings around her fingers. That'll make it really mad.
Seriously, do it. I want to see which one of the two of you gets the manflesh. Ehehehehehehehehe. She flinched. Ooh. Maybe mum was right. There was too much of grandmother in her brain sometimes.
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