Mood Piece February 21 2018

She wore her smile like a blade. Slung low and to the left, with the sort of casual tension that promised a quick and painful encounter for anyone without a practiced eye for danger. She had earned it, fair and square, and no one could say it hadn't served her well over the years. At times it was even awe inspiring, in the way any skill honed to a sharp mastery can be. There was an undeniable artistry in her violence. She was a warrior, and like all warriors she found that as her blade got faster her opponents so did her opponents; all the weak challengers long since fled or gone to ground. It wasn't long before the only people she saw were the sorts who didn't shy away from pain, receiving it or inflicting it. It was her eyes that betrayed, ultimately; still reflections, windows into a world where every smile was just another blade waiting to strike.