a little of the devil's wine
That flows inside of everyone...

She adored this state, savage and hungry she moves like a phantom through the shadows, bare feet not making a sound in the grass as she came towards the house, the blades she crushed only whispering their protests before her weight silenced them. Her eyes peek into a low window, the state of the neighborhood making her wonder why the person who lived here had not put bars over the glass. Perhaps they were simply trusting, or armed. She cares little either way, taking careful note of the dog lounging in the living room she could see, his head a massive clue to his breed. Pit bulls were the bane of her existance, and the very reason for most of her scars. A low growl forms within her caramel chest, though she knows better than to voice her hatred. Jaidah watches as the dog's sides move deeply, silently she tries the door handle, finding it unlocked. Apparently, the dog is enough of a deterent to most, but Jaidah has killed many like it in the ring. She got a lot of allowance when she killed, though she traded the paper away for far more valuable and better tasting meat. It had taken hed a while to understand why they gave pieces of metal back, or why she didn't have enough paper to get the steak she wanted, but she had begun to understand. It was what led her here.

She opens the door, hoping the residents are truly asleep and that the dog will have been untried and inexperienced in a fight, and she knew it would come to one, it always did with dogs. The moment that beast catches whiff of her, he will attack or bark. Or both, depending on if he is up to a fight or wants to dispatch quickly, by his look he is not the type to warn.

Her light green eyes take in every weapon possible, only finding a worn wooden bat to smash the dog with. With her feet whispering across the floor, her path is made to take the bat, she grasps the handle, smelling old blood from other humans, some weres and a dog. The dog stirs in the living room as Jaidah unzips the purse she finds in the hallway, noticing this, Jaidah stills, watching the animal for a moment before continuing her search for paper to trade. Within the purse she finds a pistol, which she quickly tucks into the back of her tight fitting jeans, pulling her shjrt over jt to conceal the weapon. Her surprise comes in the form of paper, as if the owner of the purse had been paid in all low bills. This she stashed in her front pocket, her eyes darting to the couch to find it empty. The fine hairs on her neck begin to stand, the trail of standing hairs leading all the way to her tailbone as she listens for nail clicking on the bare floors. A moment of panic grasps her before she catches sight of the brown dog on tge couch, noticing how similar their colors were for fhe first time.

Sighing, relieved, Jaidah picks the jeans up from beside the purse, snagging the gun that rolls out of a back pocket before it nearly clatters on the floor, reflex making her just a tiny bit faster than any one she knew, something she had to be sharp on to survive her father.

She stashes the gun, the wad of hundreds and twenties, checking the wallet and finding the rest of the money, small bills mostly, in a thick wad within the leather pouch. She put this in her bra, as well as the other money she snagged, then left the house, locking the door behind her.

She makes her escape towards the shadow of the armory nearby, staying in the shadows, listening to whoever was outside and making sure theh didn't come around the corner and see her. Jaidah sits down, her back against the building as she counts how much she took from the guy and woman across the street.

J A I D A H ¤ C A I N
she-wolf ♡ 20 years old ♡ untamed ♡ vagabond ♡ werewolf - white base coat, pale silver brindling that darkens to black over her spine, jade green eyes
♥czaczke