Last week, a troll grabbed Tavi. Carrying on from there, here’s this weeks six:
Unzipping my jacket, I fell to the ground and reached for the mist to cloak myself as I scrambled away from the troll.
His granite fist pulled me up by the elbow. “You not get away.”
Lunging at him, I sank my teeth into his forearm. Or tried to. Instead, I almost chipped a fang.