franklythecat

I guess you could call it 'species dysphoria'. But it started when I was around ten years old. I was at the water park playing with the ropes. And with that required me to raise my arms. And he saw the jungle in my armpits. He pointed and he laughed. I used to be even slightly proud that I had my little armpit jungle. It was great until I realized that a girl needs to shave every inch of hair she has other than her eyebrows and the top of her head. For the rest of that water park experience I felt unhappy and I wanted to go straight to the razor and shave my jungle off. He ruined that day for me. And any other day to come that I had forgotte

(Note* Orks kidnapped and raised a young Elvish child as a war animal with the thought of using her to aid the Ork race in ruling over all) The sword's silver blade shines as she pulls it out from the leather sheath around her waist. She looks her opponent in the eye as a smile creeps across her face. With each heavy footstep toward the edges of her chapped lips climbs higher up her mud caked face. The enemy raises his blood stained ball and chain, swinging the heavy metal weapon easily over his head. The ball and chain flies to deliver a death blow to her head. She gracefully jumps back with the deadly spikes a safe distance from her head.