Impatience

- Sanity through Madness

Dragon Age: Origins has devoured my soul. Seriously. So now I don't own any intellectual rights to the game OR my soul. Thanks, Bioware. My thoughts on what may have been running through my female human's mind, on the eve of battle against the archdemon. It's a traditional drabble, too: 100 words, where it counts, with hopefully only a little language butchery.

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She hadn't bitten her nails in years.

The detatched part of her mind remembered Nan, in all her kind-and-sensitive glory, painting her nails with some vile concoction, to curb her childish urge to chew on her nails. A teryna, even second-born, she said, must never display a ragged appearance. Do you want your parents to be ashamed of their ragamuffin daughter? No, I didn't think so.

Her nails had tasted bitter afterwards, though from the coating or Nan's ideas, she couldn't say.

But tonight...a bad habit was all she had, knowing that Alistair laid in Morrigan's arms this night.