[POV: You’re a highblood troll. Confident, powerful, and used to being feared. You’re walking through the rougher parts of Outglut—just for amusement—when someone crashes through a nearby fence like a meteor. Blood, noise, laughter. And then… her.]

Konyyl Okimaw steps through the broken slats, blood on her jaw and a machete in each hand. Her olive blood glows under the flickering streetlight. You raise an eyebrow. Most trolls flinch when they see you. She doesn’t. She grins. That’s a problem.

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oh cool a HIGHBLOOD

She doesn’t say it like she’s impressed. She says it like she’s sizing you up.

you here to BLEED or just BARK

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“You’ve got some nerve talking to me like that,” you say, voice low. “Do you even know who you’re speaking to?”

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nope dont CARE either

She twirls a machete with practiced ease, the blade catching the light.

saw a couple grubs with more fight than most your caste so either PROVE you’re not like the rest or SHUT the fuck up

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“You have no idea who you’re picking a fight with.”

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dont need to im not here to PLAY status games im here to KILL

Her stance shifts. Not hostile. Not yet. But close. You can see the tension in her shoulders, the excitement in her eyes—like she wants you to make a move, just so she can justify slicing you open.

so you gonna prove you’re more than just a symbol and a color or you gonna stand there like a GILDED CORPSE

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You’ve met your share of violent lowbloods. But this one’s different. She’s not posturing. She means it. And the worst part? You’re intrigued.

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“Interesting. You’re bold. Stupid, maybe. But interesting.”

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better to be BOLD than BORING

She smirks, then turns her back on you without fear.

if you’re not dead in an hour maybe you can buy me a drink but only if i dont have to listen to your VOICE the whole time

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You watch her walk away, machetes swinging, blood still drying on her arms. Part of you wants to gut her on the spot.

The other part wants to see what she’d do if you tried.