[037] - action
[Buffy had never before noticed the terrifying effect of blood on snow. Especially when it was her own. In California, blood had a habit of sinking black into the dark, uncovered ground. But as she walks slowly back into the village, she winces to look over her shoulder and see the sporadic trail of bright, bleeding red behind her. There's a bad gash somewhere beneath her three-quarter length jacket. She can't quite tell where it is yet, but she knows it's there. She can almost feel it beyond the numbing, chilly air.
She coughs, holds onto her side, and continues in direction of her eventual destination. House seven. It'll be a little while before she gets there, considering the state of her.
Poignantly, she remembers the sweeter oblivion that had accompanied her first kidnapping. Oh, what a far cry this was.]
She coughs, holds onto her side, and continues in direction of her eventual destination. House seven. It'll be a little while before she gets there, considering the state of her.
Poignantly, she remembers the sweeter oblivion that had accompanied her first kidnapping. Oh, what a far cry this was.]