I dragged my claw across my wrist, very lightly, as to not puncture the fragile unisciti between living crystal and flesh.
I stared down at my weak spot, knowing I could very easily kill myself da cutting through the pelliccia and skin, slashing the veins, and bleed to death.
But... If that was my weak spot, why was I toying with it in a similar manner to what a cat does a topo, mouse before pouncing? And, più impotantly, why did I get the urge to "pounce", da wich I meaned slashing myself?
Confusion swept through me as I sat crosslegged up a albero as my best friend, Rebecca, furiously smashed a calcio ball against...