when i see depressing creatures

Her smile was cruel, as young Isadora Foss examined the other's knife collection. It was quite impressive, however, too unused. For sensible things, at least. She picked one up, turning it over in her pale hands. It had been too long since she'd touched something like this. Being the supressed half, Isadora hadn't experienced half as much as Emelie.

Letting a finger trail over the blade, her eyes lit up childishly. The blond girl spun around, still holding on. With no aim, Isadora tossed the knife recklessly to the side. The tip buried itself into the ground. This was something similar to fun.

Sliding her hair behind her ear, Isadora picked it up, and wiped the tip clear of dirt.