Instadrabbles (delayed dribbles) by 0ur_Ouroboros

Kneeling (my sword, your throat)

“Kneel,” he said, his voice keening. The spirit of fire snarls and has the nerve to hesitate before raising his eyes to meet the other’s. And so slowly, so deliberately does he then bend one knee, and the other, before he raises his hands in the universal gesture.  A mockery of submission.

“Fine move, brother,” he says. 

“Foul is one who turns that into a curse.”

“The foulest,” the spirit of fire says, eyes narrowing.