as written by Faithy
The wind shifted slightly and Aimée realized just who was standing in front of her. Swearing beneath her breath at her stupidity at engaging three Scions. Her fingers twitched a little at her side and she knew that she more than likely just signed her death warrant. Remembering the warning from her father, the nineteen-year-old forced herself to remain calm and took in normal breaths, knowing that there was nowhere to hide and saying that she was just an innocent passing through wouldn’t fly. They could smell her no doubt and Bloodstone pack members and Scion pack members weren’t exactly friends. Hell, they weren’t even frenemies.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble. Just piss off and leave the bar alone. There’s good booze in there that I had planned on drinking.” Her voice was oddly calm despite the prickles moving up her spine towards her head as the hair on the back of her neck and stood at their ends.
Shifting her gaze from the burning Den towards the one who apparently was named Sasha, Aimée bit back the sarcastic comment that begged to slip between her lips. Instead she just sized up her opponent though her gaze flickered towards Michael at his compliment about her eyes. She was screwed and knew it, but if she could keep them at bay, maybe she could figure out an escape route. Snarling at Sasha’s comment, the lithe female narrowed her eyes all the while forcing herself to remain calm and collect.
“If you think I’m letting you touch my eyes, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m not just some kid…” Even to her, that comment sounded incredibly lame and childlike. Aimée really needed to work on her shit talking. Maybe if she lived, that would be what she did. She had never seen anyone shift only part of their body and found herself staring at the claws and furry forearm in slight amazement. Astonishment was soon replaced with trepidation and for the first time, she was glad for the jacket, though it would give very little protection. Lifting her boot up a little, she grabbed a hold of the handle of her knife, pulling it from its holder.
“Just leave.” She reiterated, hoping they would grow bored and just head somewhere else.
The wind shifted slightly and Aimée realized just who was standing in front of her. Swearing beneath her breath at her stupidity at engaging three Scions. Her fingers twitched a little at her side and she knew that she more than likely just signed her death warrant. Remembering the warning from her father, the nineteen-year-old forced herself to remain calm and took in normal breaths, knowing that there was nowhere to hide and saying that she was just an innocent passing through wouldn’t fly. They could smell her no doubt and Bloodstone pack members and Scion pack members weren’t exactly friends. Hell, they weren’t even frenemies.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble. Just piss off and leave the bar alone. There’s good booze in there that I had planned on drinking.” Her voice was oddly calm despite the prickles moving up her spine towards her head as the hair on the back of her neck and stood at their ends.
Shifting her gaze from the burning Den towards the one who apparently was named Sasha, Aimée bit back the sarcastic comment that begged to slip between her lips. Instead she just sized up her opponent though her gaze flickered towards Michael at his compliment about her eyes. She was screwed and knew it, but if she could keep them at bay, maybe she could figure out an escape route. Snarling at Sasha’s comment, the lithe female narrowed her eyes all the while forcing herself to remain calm and collect.
“If you think I’m letting you touch my eyes, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m not just some kid…” Even to her, that comment sounded incredibly lame and childlike. Aimée really needed to work on her shit talking. Maybe if she lived, that would be what she did. She had never seen anyone shift only part of their body and found herself staring at the claws and furry forearm in slight amazement. Astonishment was soon replaced with trepidation and for the first time, she was glad for the jacket, though it would give very little protection. Lifting her boot up a little, she grabbed a hold of the handle of her knife, pulling it from its holder.
“Just leave.” She reiterated, hoping they would grow bored and just head somewhere else.