The disheveled girl could barely keep her attention on the black printed ink and string of words, no longer capable to reading. Reading used to be able to soothe the girl in any environment. Focusing on the words, the structure, the plot, it kept her mind from trailing and thinking about the reality around her. When caged, books were the only items deemed 'safe' for her to borrow within her cold cell. There she could take herself on a journey, forgetting about the stale bread and worst selection of meat, the lumpy and itchy blankets that was her bed, or the heavy chain around her neck, all of it was ignored if only for a fleeting few moments. Yet sitting there in the dark corner of the booth, with the sound of revelry within the eccentric café, the constant flood of painful memories slowly trickling in, the need to shift into her ebony and grey fur armored was rising. Being in her scarred pale flesh caused her nothing bit distress and uneasiness. White knuckles were evident as she gripped the book only tighter. Her mind was being distorted, as she sat there attempting to ignore her surroundings. Nervously she looked up, blue-grey eyes narrowed when she felt something strangely off within the unconventional café. She was used to feeling the presences of other Weres, Witches, even the occasional Vampire. Yet when the bell above the café door rang, she felt the hair at the back of her neck rise up, as invisible hackles rose. A dark hooded figure stood at the entrance of the café, his face barely seen as he slowly moved towards the counter. No one else in the room seemed to notice or care about the fellow, but that was simply because there was no reason for them to be afraid of him. However, she had every reason to be. The last time she encountered a Dark Hunter she had gotten trapped and stabbed, and although she out-tricked him into getting caught within his own trap, he got himself free. Which only meant one thing- she had to be extremely vigilant.



Ducking her head low as she closed her book swiftly, pulling her black hood up allowing it to cover her long golden curls as she moved through the lively crowd. Keeping an eye on the hunter as he continued to maintain his focus at the front, she managed to make it to the front door, slipping out easily, inhaling the cold air and taste of freedom. As she stepped forward, she turned her head around slowly relived to see that the dark hunter within was busy talking to some woman that had happened to sit next to him. Whether he was focused on hunting or not, she didn't care, as long as he didn't notice she slipped past him. Hearing a sharp intake of breath she looked around, tilting her head down as she noticed the ragged woman sitting down against the brick. Sensing she was a Were, she slowly brought her form down, pulling her hood down, the pale moon casting dark shadows along the deep scars that disfigured her face. Sadden and weary slate eyes took in the look of the poor girl, noticing the similarities. She was all too familiar with that position. Murmuring softly her voice trickled out slowly, one hand extended, her rolled up sleeves showing off the different rakes of knotted skin, evidence of various scars that were made on her in the past.



"If you shift...you will feel better."



It didn't always make the pain go away, but it did numb it. Whatever the girl was experiencing she was familiar with it and no one else helped her out. She didn't have all the answers, but she had a simple idea to put the problem to rest- temporarily. Blue-grey eyes shifted upwards when she noticed the hooded figure looking in her general direction. Clenching her teeth, she growled softly slowly standing up straight, keeping her gaze on the hunter within the café. Attempting to keep her grave voice down, she took one step back.



"We need to run...fast."

I'd Rather Feel Pain Then Nothing At All

Raven