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Hidden among the bushes a ways from the fire outside the Second Wind Inn, lays a small figure draped in a black cloak which seems to blend in the shadows. The figure's eyes are open coldly gazing into space as she contemplates what her purpose for being brought here are. She knows she has a hatred deep in her heart, one that burns with a strength that threatens to consume her very mind. Slowly her eyelids droop halfway down as her mind slips farther into the limbo that is considered sleep.
Visions of violence and death begin to play before her half closed eyes. Everything is played in slow motion, from the moment her first blade enters the unsuspecting victem's flesh to the last gasp from their lips. These visions continue to play as her eyelids slide farther down. Just before her eyes could become completely closed the visions fade and are replaced by a shadow. She cannot make out anything of who or what the shadow is supposed to be, but a sharp pain stabs through her chest as the shadow's hand/claw moves to touch her face.
Jerking awake her breath coming fast, eyes wide she looks around frantically. Her hands ball into fists and her shock and fear become replaced by pure anger.
Visions of violence and death begin to play before her half closed eyes. Everything is played in slow motion, from the moment her first blade enters the unsuspecting victem's flesh to the last gasp from their lips. These visions continue to play as her eyelids slide farther down. Just before her eyes could become completely closed the visions fade and are replaced by a shadow. She cannot make out anything of who or what the shadow is supposed to be, but a sharp pain stabs through her chest as the shadow's hand/claw moves to touch her face.
Jerking awake her breath coming fast, eyes wide she looks around frantically. Her hands ball into fists and her shock and fear become replaced by pure anger.