I dragged my claw across my wrist, very lightly, as to not puncture the fragile registrarse between living crystal and flesh.

I stared down at my weak spot, knowing I could very easily kill myself por cutting through the pelaje, piel and skin, slashing the veins, and bleed to death.

But... If that was my weak spot, why was I toying with it in a similar manner to what a cat does a ratón before pouncing? And, más impotantly, why did I get the urge to "pounce", por wich I meaned slashing myself?

Confusion swept through me as I sat crosslegged up a árbol as my best friend, Rebecca, furiously smashed a soccer ball against...