A taste of her dagger

A snarl left her lips. She then lifted herself, standing straight, her back stiff, uncaring about the wounds that are still read and hurting on her skin. Her eyes wild, her teeth clenched, she looked like an Amazon ready to go into battle. With the daggers in her hands, her feet apart, she made the tree fold back into itself, giving a feet gap for her to go through. Cold air brushed her cheeks, riffling her tangled hair. Their eyes met- his worries and hers filled with hatred. A few seconds passed before Willow asked him with no emotion in her voice, "You come here and mock me that I couldn't kill you. Is that it?" "What!! No. Hear me, Willow," Lothaire scoffed, taking a step back for her to pass through. Willow took two steps to the side giving him a wide berth and never showing him her back. When he repeated the same thing, a crack appeared in her mask. Her voice rough displaying her simpering anger she said, "NOO!!! I don't want to hear