Fight for Freedom

POV: Calla

I balance my weight on the sturdy dresser. The heavy piece of furniture sits directly next to the doorway of the loft. My fingers grip the knotted denim of my makeshift sleeve maces. The broken ceramic pieces inside the thick fabric dig into my palms, grounding me. My heart pounds in my chest, beating a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I have never felt this kind of dark, primal bloodlu