<strong><em><span class="bbc_u">Fern</span></em></strong><br/><br/>A scream of absolute terror shakes Fern's body, deep, drawn from her toes up through her body sprinting from her lips at the sight of the daggers inside gaping maw.  Terror born of dreams in the night, unseen monsters crawling from the depths of hellish nightmares.<br/><br/>"NOoooooo!" Twisting her lithe body in its ropey grasp, Fern brings her daggers to bare.  One held in a grip ready to plunge in downward arch.. one held ready for an upward sweep.  Death will come some day, but not at the hands and slathering fetid being, intent on her as food.<br/><br/>As the thing draws her close, she plunges hard and fast, all her strength coming to a fine point at the end of the dagger aimed for its eye.  The second, a barrier to shove between foul lips, a prop to keep those crushing jaws from closing on her.<br/><br/><br/>OOC: one dagger overhead to the eye, the other straight into the mouth, point up, propping ht mouth open.