August 14, 2016 by Lyn
The yelp makes up your mind, and you throw a quick Working around your hands and shoulders, hardening and preserving them, before you smash into the wall with sheer brute force.
There’s a reason, you suppose, your father named you what he did. You’re strong, stupidly strong, although, as the wall shakes and bricks begin to fly loose, you realize that you could probably just stop the description at stupid: on the other side of the wall, the girl moves from yelps to a flat-out scream, and someone else oofs unpleasantly.
Coy shakes his head in obvious disgust at you.