Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Sept 27, 2015 21:55:06 GMT
She was back. Beacon Hills was her beacon of hope. Once her escape, twice her home. For the last year, she'd been holed up inside a three star restaurant with fake Italian recipes and faker smiles. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, he said - he being a traveler passing by with oh-so innocent intentions. He took her under his wing, but as she'd learned from her politically-driven parents, there was a catch to everything.
After a few weeks, his intentions became clear: hunt or be hunted. By whom? It'd taken her months to dissect every detail until she found the source of their fear: werewolves.
But now? Now she was back, but she was unrecognizable. Dusty blonde hair curled around her shoulders, framing her thin, hard face, well-sculpted but fairly unshaped brows, a lean, taut form with thin, long hands and short,nubby nails with traces of beetle-armor blue varnish, torn, dirtied knuckles, and a long-sleeved t-shirt dress.
She looked like a maniac, trumping down the streets in such a thin outfit and a knapsack styled purse swung over her shoulder in forty-degree weather.
She could feel the tingle of the midnight cold's bite in her fingers, breezing through her ripped knuckles like an icy kiss. She could feel the chill on her ears. She could feel it's zap of venom when she sucked in her breath, burning her dull teeth. She could feel it all, for the first time in months.
With Jebidiah, her knight in tin foil armor with a devil's grin that's taken her in, there was little free time.
Work six, eight, ten hour shifts at the hoity-toity restaurant.
Train for two.
Eat. Bathe. Socialize.
Saturdays off. Saturday shopping. Saturday pay. Saturday sleep.
Saturday was her day.
It was a Saturday she took off in her ole' junker of a car: a 2001 Jeep Cherokee that was once a looker, but now was bruised with enough dents and scratches to be considered something of an eyesore.
Luckily, most had only witnessed the state of the outside. She'd draped black velvet seat covers over the front, and flannel blankets over the back seats. Bags of various sizes and colors stacked every inch of the back seats, some contents spilling out.
It was parked a few paces away. Illegally. She'd neglected to drop a few quarters into the toll box.
She'd always parked in gas station lots or gravel roads back at Jeb's. It was a fairly innocent mistake.
She was never a prisoner there, but then again, she'd never shown an interest in leaving. Nobody really did. They were taken care of, given modes of transportation, a paycheck...
But captivity wasn't Louly's style. She was independent, so much so that she'd skipped out on her way to "Saturday Brunch-" or as she called it: "second breakfast." Fast-forward to eleven thirty-three PM that same day, and here she was - venturing down the streets like she owned them, striding purposefully in her grey, faux-suede booties, arms crossed over her chest. She longed for a cigarette, but that'd been a condition for her employment: ditch the butts or leave. They couldn't afford future hunters with breathing problems.
So she'd quit. She'd quit all of her habits: thievery (which was mostly thanks to Teddy, a friend who'd been the one to motivate her into becoming a productive member of society), wandering at night (whoops), smoking (barely a habit - it kept her warm), and feeling too much.
Too much made her soft. Too much made her feel all the physical pain of training. All of the hurt of watching a hunter become the hunted, whether it be wolf or human.
She'd never really mastered that.
So there she was, heading for a hotel - one she's never seen the four interior walls of. It was a new-new beginning.
And she was loving every second of it. She smiled up at the black sky, and the stars winked back at her. She smiled at the frigid wind. She smiled because she was home.
Sort of.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 28, 2015 21:44:30 GMT
Life is a series of events. One crucial act after another. Always different, but not always new. The same stories, just an alternative order- something to spice up the same-old, same-old. Nothing's unique. It's all been done. Dead parents. Endless cash. Poor attitude. Brains out the wazoo. Pretty face, elegant curves. Muscles building off one another. Neglected child. Boisterous student. One way or another, the tales already been told. The details match up to any other, just scrambled- some missing, some picking plenty. Always ups. Always downs.
But the outcomes always the same. Build it up, toss in all the adjectives and plot lines in the world, but it all gets erased in the end. Swept under the rug, paper crumpled and tossed- a new sheet torn out of the book to start all over.
In this case, the story is rather simple. Mom was a no show, skipped out the moment the infant was wrapped in a pale pink blanket, out of the hospital’s doors before she could even scribble her name onto her daughter's birth certificate, claiming nothing of the girl. Dad was a man’s man, set on having son and having no clue what to do with the bundle of blonde hair and blue eyes in his arms. He was raised under the hood of a car, grease tainting his blood and a baseball cap forever backwards on his head- he didn’t know a thing about how to raise a girl. He didn’t even know he was having a kid until the last trimester- taught him a lesson about safe sex on one night stands, that’s for sure. So the generic man gave his daughter a generic name. Bobbi- with an ‘i’ rather than a ‘y’ because that’s feminine, right? He tried, it’s not like he’d exactly planned on any of this.
And he really hadn’t. It was a lot harder taking care of a child on his own than he’d suspected. Changes had to be made, life had to be resorted, and dear god he had to hide any and every sharp object in the house because his baby girl had a knack for climbing on the counters and tossing the knives on the floor. Because they were ‘shiny’, she’d explain once her voice rolled in. Crawling swapped for eager legs, chubby with his tendency to give in to her pouting faces (how could he saw no to an extra cookie when she gave him the world’s saddest puppy dog eyes?) She had a talent for worming her way into his heart. It went on that way for five years. Just the two of them. Father and his little tom boy. Anything her dad did, Bobbi was at his side, learning the lay of the land- learning how to be a man. It wasn’t until she headed into Kindergarten that she realized she wasn’t a little princess like the other girls, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. They complained too much and couldn’t quite climb trees like she could- so ha, suck on that little brats. That being said, it’s understandable that the majority of her friends were the boys in her grade, the only exception being Missy, a girl much like herself. They met in a puddle of mud, jumping around and getting messy while waiting for their dads. Best friends at first sight. They weren’t like the rest, and that’s just how they liked it.
It was just her and her dad. Well, until the summer between kindergarten and first grade.
One day, dad hadn’t come home alone. Instead, there was a woman with the brownest of curls and the grandest of smiles kneeling before her. She wanted to be jealous her dad was spending time with someone else, that she wouldn’t be the center of his attention anymore, but even at five she couldn’t call up the pout she wanted because she knew. She saw the way her dad grew glassy eyed when she asked about why she didn’t have a mommy like the rest of the kids at school, she knew that he wasn’t as he could be all alone, and to be truthful? She wanted a mom, she needed someone to fill in the female role she so desperately needed. So she grinned, snagging the woman in a hug and giggling helplessly as the affection was returned.
Easy as that and they were a family.
A year later dad was married, and mom was carrying a little boy in her tummy. It seemed quick, but Bobbi had been fascinated by it all. Watching her brother stretch her surrogate mother’s stomach, entranced by the movements the boy would make. Kicks and little rolls, it all had the girl captivated. Then like that, there was a small blue bundle in her pudgy arms while her father loomed close by, being cautious of the six year old’s hold on the new baby. Robbie, Robert in full, was his name. Dad wasn’t all that creative, and was all too humored with the idea of rhyming names. The things that amuse an old mechanic.
But it only made her love him more. Made the boy more like her. Bobbi and Robbie, inseparable. She loved him more than Missy. More than her mom. Almost more than dad, almost.
Her parents had to fight to keep her out of the crib, trying to dull her fascination with her brother by tossing her into gymnastics, but nothing worked. This was something that was hers, someone who would understand in ways her dad never would. This was her best friend, she knew it.
But there’s the climax, the raising hopes, the bounty of love- but there’s always a falling action. Every story has one.
This one comes in death. Mom not quite winning the battle against a surprise case of cancer. Bobbi was barely nine, coddling her three year old brother as they watched the casket dip into the dirt. Motherless again, and she knew there wouldn’t be another.
It was just the three. Still was.
Thirteen years later, and not much has changed. Robbie was still the most important thing in her world, the little brat (she thinks lovingly, of course- maybe) he’d become once puberty hit, as was her dear old dad. Her brother was a junior at Beacon Hills High, dad still tinkering under hoods. Bobbi aimed higher than that, no longer huddling under engines, but bustling behind the barrel of a gun. Law enforcement had always called her, the urge to protect being implanted the second her brother had been set in her arms. She barreled up the ranks, deputy in just shy of two years. She’d grown into a persona of strength, forever business and easy smiles. Her job was something she took seriously, but was still laid back- well, as much as she could be. Be it human or supernatural she was dealing with (kind of hard to not know about the shifters running around town when she’s ran into more than one in her days), she kept to the rules- always playing by the law rather than favorites.
But that’s on duty. Off duty, completely different. The hard ego that her uniform carries melts away and she becomes just another citizen.
Like today, no work- so she’s spent her day pestering her brother and helping her dad around her old home. It'd taken a good portion of her day dealing with those hooligans, so her daily walk was pushed far into the night.
A blue, well-worn cotton shirt protected her from the oncoming fall weather- though it didn’t serve too much purpose, for it rose every time she so much as raised her arm. Blue jeans held securely on her hips by one of her father’s rejected leather belts, and the once blonde, now a rejected auburn hue, hair spilled over her shoulders without care. Leash in hand, she led her German Shepherd, Bandit, through the park. Stride strong, and pale blue eyes roaming over the park, Bobbi hadn’t even noticed Bandit had picked up speed and was soon out of her grip and bounding towards an unsuspecting someone. Breaking into a sprint, she called after her dog, barely reaching him in time to grab his leash before he pounced on the person. Nothing about his actions were malicious, just playful- an easy, wolfish grin spread across his muzzle as he wiggled and reached for the person. Bobbi was unrelenting in her hold, though, quickly spilling out an apology as she drew him closer to her side.
“I am so sorry! My head was in the clouds and I hadn’t even noticed him taking off- he didn’t mean any harm. I’m really sorry!” Normally she wouldn’t apologize so much, but she was in the wrong, so it was only right to.
Hopefully this person would understand and not flip. She didn’t need that on as her good day was coming to an end. Her eyes rose, catching the girl's eyes, and was suddenly slightly wary. She looked out of place, but rather familiar. Maybe Bobbi had spotted her before on one of her patrols? Who knows, she just hoped she wouldn't cause drama in the silence of the night.
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Sept 28, 2015 22:12:28 GMT
After a few minutes, her steady, light steps weren't enough to shield her from the cold. She regret picking a motel so far in town. Stepping across the park was a short cut, even though it was past curfew. She didn't think she'd run into much trouble.
But as always, trouble found her - but instead of a wolf or a man, it came in a smaller, more... docile package. A wolfish grin with moonlit teeth and a widows peak. Not a killer. Not even close.
Everything about the dog screamed 'pet me, pet me, pet me!' Sure, she was wary of anything canine, but it was better than the normal 'murder, murder, murder...' so she welcomed the dog, firmly rubbing his head before linking a few fingers through his collar. " 'ey, buddy." She rattled the tinkling chains of the strange dog's collar, searching for a tag - she'd found a few stray dogs in her time away. It was like clockwork.
But it was fruitless. She heard an urgent tone shout from paces away, and her ears twitched, listening to the pounding of feet against the damp grass. It made a wet, splooshing sound that made her think of winter sludge. She wrinkled her nose at the comparison, taking her time to address the owner, a faraway smile on her face. " 'S okay!" She chirped, slowly guiding her gaze toward the woman's, sensing suspicion. She quickly tucked pieces of fluffy hair behind her ears, trying to appear less worn. It didn't really work, and she knew that.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 1, 2015 0:04:31 GMT
It was ironic, really, for the deputy of Beacon Hills to have a dog named Bandit, wasn't it? A lot of her colleagues joke about it, tossing her a smirk as they crouch down and ruffle the canine's fur easily. He was big for a German Shepherd, healthy and trained well, but daunting in his size. Most people shied away from him, scared his wagging tall would knock them down, but it didn't bother Bobbi in the least. She knew he was a good dog and wouldn't bring harm- that was all that really mattered.
Luckily, in her case, this girl seemed completely content with him nearly tackling her- and in the girl's case, that Bobbi had managed to get a hold on his collar before her face was dripping wet with his slobbery kisses. He was a major lover, didn't even fight the neighborhood cat who'd bat him around whenever his nose got too close. Not a police dog at all.
Nodding along with the girl's words, she let out a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was a dispute with a civilian, so she was thankful she understood that Bandit hadn't meant any harm. Getting a firm hold on the wiggling pooch's leash, she reigned him in to her side, letting him lean against her legs as if he really needed the support. Lazy thing, god. Wiping her free hand on her jeans to free it of sweat, Bobbi let her gaze sink down to the girl. She was quite shorter than herself, but then again- most girls were. Dad genes, height ran on his side. Despite offering her a soft smile, her eyes still held suspicion as she asked, "Are you okay, ma'am? Mighty late to be out here alone."
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Nov 1, 2015 16:35:48 GMT
She almost appeared crestfallen when the dog was sharply lead off her. The absence of such buzzing, happy life so close to her had an immediate draining effect on her energy levels. It'd been too long.
She wiped the oil from the pooch's fur on her pants, but didn't yet straighten, content with being crouched after hours of sleepy driving or endless walking.
Louly offered but a dreamy smile, the effect nebulous; wrinkling her nose and crinkling her canine brown eyes. " 'm okay," she waved off the concern with stealth, "I was just on my way south and figured I'd stop off here for the night... grew up here, y'know?" It wasn't a lie, not at all. You didn't really grow trapped inside a mansion full of porcelain and fake smiles. It was a lock box that'd shut her out from the world.
Beacon Hills was where she learned how to lean on others for support and learn how cold the world could be. Although her upbringing was rough in this secretive little town, she liked to think of it fondly. "'m not much of a night-driver, so it seemed better t'walk." It was a convincing argument, sure, but it didn't excuse the fact that she was wandering without a lick of unconcealed fear in her being.
The way she watched Bandit, with her mouth in a pleasant line and her eyes unmoving from the dog's hulking figure, made her appear more like a rogue high school graduate that'd decided to travel the darkest streets than a hunter with weapons neatly concealed in holsters all along her person.
The hippie, wanderlust approach seemed to convince most people that the only thing she was guilty of was poor judgement.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 3, 2015 14:51:22 GMT
Bobbi’s head cocked to the side some as she watched the girl remain crouched, fingers twitching a tad tighter around her dog’s collar as he grew antsy at being held back. Curiosity brimmed just behind her crystal eyes, a bit of mistrust glinting in them as she took in the strange girl. Being a cop, she was trained to forever be cautious, always careful- it’s just part of the job. Don’t jump to any conclusions.
Nodding along with the girl’s explanation as to why she was roaming around in the middle of the night, some of the tension eased from her shoulders as it was verified that she had in fact been in Beacon Hills before- so Bobbi wasn’t crazy, she must have seen her at least once. Small town and all.
With her lips twitching into a hint of a small smile, she kept her gaze locked on the younger female, not quite sure what to make of the side eye she was giving Bandit- but she didn’t comment, just kept on her toes, ready to defend herself if it was even necessary. Which she doubted, but you never know in this crazy town. Adjusting her hold on her pet, she shook her head to toss her blonde locks over her shoulder, voice calm as she explained, “Well, Bandit and I were just finishing up our rounds here. If you’d like, I could walk you to where you’re going? A lot safer in a group- ‘specially at night in these parts.” Be it a rogue wolf or even a crazed civilian, it could be dangerous to be alone here.
“Bobbi, by the way,” she introduced, leaving out the fact that she was an officer because experience taught her not everyone was keen on having a cop as company. Offering her hand out to shake, or even to pull the girl up from her crouch, she asked, “Gotta name?” was ironic, really, for the deputy of Beacon Hills to have a dog named Bandit, wasn't it? A lot of her colleagues joke about it, tossing her a smirk as they crouch down and ruffle the canine's fur easily. He was big for a German Shepherd, healthy and trained well, but daunting in his size. Most people shied away from him, scared his wagging tall would knock them down, but it didn't bother Bobbi in the least. She knew he was a good dog and wouldn't bring harm- that was all that really mattered.
Luckily, in her case, this girl seemed completely content with him nearly tackling her- and in the girl's case, that Bobbi had managed to get a hold on his collar before her face was dripping wet with his slobbery kisses. He was a major lover, didn't even fight the neighborhood cat who'd bat him around whenever his nose got too close. Not a police dog at all.
Nodding along with the girl's words, she let out a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was a dispute with a civilian, so she was thankful she understood that Bandit hadn't meant any harm. Getting a firm hold on the wiggling pooch's leash, she reigned him in to her side, letting him lean against her legs as if he really needed the support. Lazy thing, god. Wiping her free hand on her jeans to free it of sweat, Bobbi let her gaze sink down to the girl. She was quite shorter than herself, but then again- most girls were. Dad genes, height ran on his side. Despite offering her a soft smile, her eyes still held suspicion as she asked, "Are you okay, ma'am? Mighty late to be out here alone."
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Nov 3, 2015 16:22:43 GMT
Louly listened and nodded along like any polite human being, but she was visibly deflated when the officer poised a question: "I could walk you to where you're going?" "Sure," She sounded cheery, " 'course.." and then the topic shifted. "Why's your partner named Bandit? He start out as a stray or something?" She asked as she straightened, not giving in to instinct that told her to pat the clumpy dirt off the worn knees of her pants. "Oh... and you can call me Louly." She cast a shadowed smile in Bobbi's direction.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2015 16:08:57 GMT
A wave of relief washed over Bobbi as the girl agreed to keep her as company, body losing further tension now that she was able to make sure the girl got where she was going safely- and wasn’t going to stir any trouble on the way there. Glancing down at her massive dog, a small smile teased at her lips as she nodded. “He, uh, well, he just kind of appeared on my doorstep,” her father’s, to be accurate, but still, “Just a puppy, didn’t know he’d get this big.” Laughing softly, she shook her head and let her eyes find the other girl’s, “We named him Bandit because he’d steal food off plates and shoes when we weren’t looking. Well, that and his coloring,” she gestured down at his face, where there was a dark patch around his eyes, almost imitating a burglar’s mask. Robbie was the one who’d actually come up with it, proclaiming that he was a bandit and it just stuck.
“Louly,” she repeated, nodding slowly, testing out the name, “So where are we headed then?”
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Nov 5, 2015 21:45:53 GMT
Louly beamed as Bobbi explained the story behind the friendly giant. "I've never had a dog," She explained, expression terrifically bright despite the forlorn catch in her voice. "I've always wanted a big one. And, uh, the little bed an' breakfast 'bout a quarter mile off." Her sense of direction was lousy - it was far less than a quarter of a mile.
She was too busy thinking long and hard about what joys would come from having a dog.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 8, 2015 3:27:04 GMT
The smallest of frowns creased Bobbi's lips as Louly's words sank in- she could never imagine growing up without a dog, the bond built between human and pet was like no other. Though maybe the reasons behind her not ever having one were rather important, so she didn't press on the matter any further. Rather, her mind batted through all of the local motel varities- a grand total of one, and it sure was a lot further walk than that.
Bobbi just nodded, glancing in the general direction of the establishment before concluding, "Then we probably should get a move on, don't think we should be out here any longer than we need to." She managed to conjure up an honest smile, small as it may seem, at least it was a real one.
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Nov 8, 2015 20:24:54 GMT
"I had a cat though!" She added as an afterthought. It was not exactly a lie - she'd fed a semi-feral alley cat throughout most of her younger years in Beacon Hills. The excitement was short-lived as she remembered her reason for being in the park. Walking had no appeal anymore.
"Yeah, we should," she agreed curtly, and set back off.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2015 13:00:52 GMT
"Oh," Bobbi commented, almost off guard at the girl's sudden outburst- Louly was all over the place, she was having a hard time pining down if this was someone she'd have to keep an eye on or not. "I had one when I was real little, fed it one day when I was like, maybe? And it just kept coming back." So it wasn't exactly her cat, but still they had a bond- until one day the little tabby just didn't show up. Bobbi never did find out what happened, but figured nature played some role.
Eyebrow quirking at the sudden mood change, Bobbi tightened her grip on Bandit's leash and set about following after the girl, a few paces between their strides.
Eyes scanning the dark corners of the park warily, she figured it couldn't hurt to ask, "Why come back now?"
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Out of Town
Written by Angel.
45 posts.
18 years old.
Single.
I am Female.
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Post by Louly Summers on Nov 19, 2015 23:35:34 GMT
(Agreed!)
"Oh," Louly echoed shortly after without meaning, looking a little taken a back by such a question. "I came to surprise a few friends I haven't talked to in awhile, but their home was abandon." She shrugged, "geez, that sounded dire! I mean they moved. We all just kinda' go where our hearts tell us. It's naive and dumb, I know." She grinned and tucked her head a tad meekly. It was easy to play ditsy. It made her feel like a younger version of herself, all rough 'n tumble and in love with a group of boys she'd temporarily found a family with. It was like going back in time.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 20, 2015 13:28:33 GMT
Bobbi nodded as the girl spoke, eyes scanning the shadows as they walked under the dull lap lights. Her mind silently scanned through everyone who had moved away recently, trying to associate that with who she might know, but ultimately coming up with nothing. She supposed it didn't matter much, really, though she may have been able to point Louly in the direction they may have gone. She had a knack for knowing the town like the back of her hand, each person within just another scar dented into her flesh, so she'd be able to help- if the girl wanted that information. Rather than offering, though, she tightened her hold on the leash as Bandit started to get restless and said sturdily, "Well, I hope you run into them at some point," because what else could she really say.
Giving the girl a reassuring smile, she nodded and kept her pace even.
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Louly Summers
Annonymous
yo, just visiting!
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Post by Louly Summers on Nov 20, 2015 16:43:10 GMT
Louly expected nothing useful from the officer - besides temporary companionship, if one would consider being escorted somewhere like a lowly criminal a friendly gesture. She nodded once sharply and pressed on, the cold flapping through the thin polyester men's shirt she'd passed off as something chic.
She opened her mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a growl.
Her eyes flashed wide, the whites of her eyes reflecting the moon; every crater illuminated in her huge doe eyes.
She mouthed a word as foul as manure, a short rush of jumbled letters, but it was drowned out by the scrape of pounding claws against the loose-packed earth,left dusty from lack of precipitation and the soft barks of anticipation. Louly jerked, snapping herself out of the dumb stupor she'd been in, her hand yanking at her boot; no, a holster, the polished silver it held waving them all hello as she yanked the poisoned knife from her boot, but the movement at the corner of her eye told her something that stirred horror deep in her gut: Bobbi was ready to attack.
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