What a whisper can do.

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I learned first the fist.  Oh, I knew how to speak, but did not yet learn the tongues of fire.  When the fist failed, could not be used immediately, or in a certain setting, I learned the way of the fine tongue.  Words, from there, went on to include the written.  I learned, first, how to change men, bend them to my will or favor.  A whisper of "Not here, not now", spoken in just the right way and even an enraged opponent might settle.  When this failed, I learned to seek a man's wants, and show them taken, so as to cause worry, concern, fright.  I learned more.


I prefer to take care with my words, just as my other weapons of war.  You will rarely hear me speak over a low tone.  If you can hear terrible things even there, my full voice, tongued to induce fear, might horrify you.  Watch a mouse that has just heard an owl screech.  I can do that to men, certainly to women and children.  I have watched a man's nose begin to bleed from a minor exhibition.  He may just have been an excitable lad though.  I stood off the front line of a college defensive line with words.  If to it was not just a hard tongue they had to fear, and knew it.  Competitive instinct, knowing the score, is strong even among such.

And yet, sometimes, I let my words stray.  They lash and tear like few things can.  Those I love, those things I hate, even myself.  *Crack*  I know that feel, of flesh.  I know, see it in the eyes or responses, when I do it to minds and souls.  There isn't a way to take some things back.  Even my last was... mortified... terrified... but... awed and respectful of my tongue.  She admitted to being harshly cruel, usually daily, but suggested she is as a blind child when I chose to wage war through language.  She was punished every three to four months when she went too far for too long, or, sadly if rarely, just because.  If I write or say something that is too hard, understand, I probably thought you could handle it.  Either that or I felt I had call.  I'm not evil, hard though.  If I was wrong, or you hurt, just back off a bit and think.  Trust me, there is a place you don't want to go, and pressed, I will find it.  You can't hurt me this way, and I don't always know when a jest is a jest, or a contest is just a game, but one that has gone too far.  I play hard, I play to win.  I do win!  *Crack*

Just notions.  Believe as you will.