Velvet Verbosity prompt: Vicious
The Ice men were a ferocious race of elongated limbs, sharpened teeth and brutal practices.
I stayed hidden from them as I observed.
One morning a group of them found me. Hot, sour breath greeted me as I sprung from slumber.
One touched my exposed hair. They spoke; fast, hard, sharp sounds.
I told them to kill me quickly.
Instead, they grabbed me and I was carried away. My equiptment (my scope, books, this journal and even my tent) came with us.
The ice wind that danced around us cut through me. It merely bounced off their exposed blue skin.