Pressing her finger into the tip of Power's horns smiling. There's a little blood.
This is how she claws her way in . Power's made no effort to hide the terror she regards Makima with , but that only seems to further excite her ... even now , as the blood fiend nearly trembles beneath her touch , Makima gazes down from above with nothing short of ecstasy . This is what she wants . Her subjects must fear , for how else may she ensure their everlasting obedience ? Any less , and they may be tempted to taste freedom ... tempted to meet their end .
By her hand , surely . But Power can't think of that right now . The metallic smell is far too tempting , trickling blood commanding her attention is devoted to Makima's hand . She would not dare indulge without permission , no — a good dog knows not to beg , for its treat will surely come with obedience .
' M - Miss Makima ... You poked yourself ... Um ... Kinda bad ... '
