#revaas

     there's a crackling halo of electric energy      instinctively forming around her fist, stray      bolts arcing up her forearm, as the sound      of soft footsteps alerts her to the presence      of another. the person's gait is light, quiet,      comfortable in the forest -- someone not      as used to being hunted as she is may not      have noticed. 

                                                                 she turns fast, bringing her arm around to sling the                                                                  energy towards the intruder -- but as she does she                                                                  sees him, and it takes a half-moment's assessment                                                                  of the situation for her to realize that fuck, that isn't                                                                  a templar, that's an elf. at the last second, she's able                                                                  to change the angle of her aim, and the spell strikes                                                                  the ground a few feet from the stranger. 

                    fuck. fuck. there's too many templars around. it's making                     her paranoid, and that paranoia is making her sloppy.