(no subject)
Who: Irene and YOUR FACE
When: Mid-afternoon, Day 33.
Where: Main road
What: There's this tall cloaked figure invading Bell Pointe.
Rating: God only knows?
There was nothing, nothing but silence as she moved carefully down the road. She knew nothing of where she was or why she was here. She bothered not to check any doors or windows. She bothered not to see if one of these houses might belong to her, because they weren't her familiar cabin. These weren't her familiar woods. Nothing here was the same as the land she was used to, the cities that she had once stepped foot into if only to slay yoma.
A faint shiver ran down her back.
There was something wrong here, she could feel it. Something dangerous, deadly even, it came off of the town in waves, so to speak. Almost, but not quiet like that child. Nothing, she believed, was as dangerous as that Awakened one. Priscilla. The child had been so powerful, too powerful for her own good, and yet... no, she feared nothing more than that child.
And Clare wanted so badly to avenge Teresa. The thought pushed its way into her mind, making her heart briefly constrict at the mere thought of that woman. She'd been so young then, too young to see so much blood. So much carnage. Irene would never wish such on any child. But fate was too cruel to be kind to some. It was not all too surprising that Clare had chosen the path of vengeance. It was one of the many things that fueled some of the girls into becoming so called Claymores.
She shook her head briefly. Somehow, she knew, she might just find that girl here. Somehow. It was just a feeling she had. Her lips quirked faintly and she finally began to walk down the long stretch of road.
When: Mid-afternoon, Day 33.
Where: Main road
What: There's this tall cloaked figure invading Bell Pointe.
Rating: God only knows?
There was nothing, nothing but silence as she moved carefully down the road. She knew nothing of where she was or why she was here. She bothered not to check any doors or windows. She bothered not to see if one of these houses might belong to her, because they weren't her familiar cabin. These weren't her familiar woods. Nothing here was the same as the land she was used to, the cities that she had once stepped foot into if only to slay yoma.
A faint shiver ran down her back.
There was something wrong here, she could feel it. Something dangerous, deadly even, it came off of the town in waves, so to speak. Almost, but not quiet like that child. Nothing, she believed, was as dangerous as that Awakened one. Priscilla. The child had been so powerful, too powerful for her own good, and yet... no, she feared nothing more than that child.
And Clare wanted so badly to avenge Teresa. The thought pushed its way into her mind, making her heart briefly constrict at the mere thought of that woman. She'd been so young then, too young to see so much blood. So much carnage. Irene would never wish such on any child. But fate was too cruel to be kind to some. It was not all too surprising that Clare had chosen the path of vengeance. It was one of the many things that fueled some of the girls into becoming so called Claymores.
She shook her head briefly. Somehow, she knew, she might just find that girl here. Somehow. It was just a feeling she had. Her lips quirked faintly and she finally began to walk down the long stretch of road.