LEVEL 3: CREATIVE PARAGRAPHS
His taurine eyes were glittering with hostility. They were as wild and fearsome as any bull. He swung his mace and nearly decapitated me. I could feel its passage whisking my hair as I ducked. They were demons, these adversaries of ours. They hated the grain-eaters, or so they called us. They preferred to rip and gorge on human flesh and we were afraid of them. Some of them were hard of eye and stony of face. Others were wild-eyed savages with a berserk nature.
They all shared the same Cossack-cold look in their eyes. Their voices were as lifeless as a burial chamber. Even when they taunted us, when they tried to be honey-tongued, their voices echoed with brutality. Their callused, knotty fingers beckoned us to fight them and they smashed their fists against their bulbous noses to prove their bravery. Hairs as hard as a boar’s bristles sprouted from their faces. Their head hair was knotted and clotted with dry, human blood. Cauliflower ears sprouted out from either side of the head, puffy and raw from countless battles. Even their faces were bestial, nicked and notched from axe and sword.
He gave me a leer as he swung his mace with that demonic power of his. Battle fever rose up in me and I blocked him. I was determined to spill his blood before he did it to me.
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