[if fang hadn't made that last comment, maybe there wouldn't be burning bile scorching vanille's throat, causing a hiss to escape. it's not that the statement is false—no, it's definitely the truth that vanille hates facing—it's the scornful tone fang uses that gets a rise out of her. another wave of heat rolls off the younger pulsian's skin, fueled by her anger; if the two of them weren't gargoyles, they might have passed out.
grinding her sharpened fangs, her claws dig deeper under her partner's scales, now actively seeking blood.]
Is that what you think of me? Do you think I like making the sacrifices I've made—that I keep making?
[even in addressing her own self-awareness, she fails to get at the meat of what fang is pointing out, that she's unintentionally making it about her.]
no subject
grinding her sharpened fangs, her claws dig deeper under her partner's scales, now actively seeking blood.]
Is that what you think of me? Do you think I like making the sacrifices I've made—that I keep making?
[even in addressing her own self-awareness, she fails to get at the meat of what fang is pointing out, that she's unintentionally making it about her.]