(no subject)
She found herself above the city once more, looking down at the few mortals scurrying quickly through the streets. She closed her eyes, letting the wind blow around her, her cloak flapping loudly to her keen ears.
She was dead.
All she saw when she closed her eyes was those that had left. There were so many.
Everyone always leaves me.
“Fuckers,” she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists tightly by her side.
She paced, as she watched below. Waiting.
They come to this city. My city. They come to MY city and take MY friend, no MY sister and as the Sheriff I was unable to do anything about it. City first, my ass.
She never thought she’d get involved in politics, but now things were turning personal. They were making it difficult for her to be apart from everything. But then again, she was never the watcher.
They came to this city in an act of cowardliness. To further their cowardly ways they brought her outside of New England for so -called judgment and now her death. All so some stuck up bastard didn’t have to owe anyone anything.
But she knew, through all the information she had already gathered. He would pay in the end. It might not be right away, but it was set in motion.
She grinned, distracted as a pretty young thing walked by down below. She was done up to the extreme with fashionable stiletto boots and a jacket that could hardly be considered warm. She was foolish, alone, and would be easy to follow.
You’ll be mine tonight.
She grabbed onto the fire escape and disappeared from mortal eyes, letting herself be consumed in the hunt.
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