[Tempest that her current mood is, she doesn't catch on to the feathers until it's too late, the door swinging open and leaving her standing there, bereft of words and breath. It might be the first time she's truly sworn to herself since she woke up.]
[Small favors, she's distracted enough by her wounded emotions for the inhuman glow in her eyes to fade. Rejection is not something she was built for, and with her hunger and mood both so piqued she's bound to react less than charitably. The likely factor of a curse has no place in the twisted logic of singed feelings.]
Never mind. [Whirling on her heel, deciding that the aggravating corridor is preferable to being rebuffed -- or worse, humored]
no subject
[Small favors, she's distracted enough by her wounded emotions for the inhuman glow in her eyes to fade. Rejection is not something she was built for, and with her hunger and mood both so piqued she's bound to react less than charitably. The likely factor of a curse has no place in the twisted logic of singed feelings.]
Never mind. [Whirling on her heel, deciding that the aggravating corridor is preferable to being rebuffed -- or worse, humored]