River's voice is very soft. Her smile is back, and again it has that incongruous, lethal sweetness.
"Not like you."
One step forward. Another. The crossbow's bolt rests easily in her hand: not dangling, not gripped. Just held with a thoughtless, natural ease, as if it were no kind of weapon at all.
(As if she hadn't just yanked it from one vampire's corpse-dust to kill another.)
Very deliberately: "I shoot with my mind."
"I kill. With my heart."
Her head tilts fractionally. Gently, implacably: "Where is your heart, Slayer?"
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-09-06 02:48 am (UTC)River's voice is very soft. Her smile is back, and again it has that incongruous, lethal sweetness.
"Not like you."
One step forward. Another. The crossbow's bolt rests easily in her hand: not dangling, not gripped. Just held with a thoughtless, natural ease, as if it were no kind of weapon at all.
(As if she hadn't just yanked it from one vampire's corpse-dust to kill another.)
Very deliberately: "I shoot with my mind."
"I kill. With my heart."
Her head tilts fractionally. Gently, implacably: "Where is your heart, Slayer?"