Winifred Jordan (warriors_gaze) wrote in st_margarets, @ 2016-01-06 17:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: caitlin gray, character: winifred jordan, location: the woods |
Anger Management
Who: Fred and Open
Where: Edge of the woods
When: Wednesday Afternoon
Warning: She's a little upset
She didn't know why she was so pissed. Maybe it was just the fact that this was the first new year she had started off without really thinking about how her parents were dead. Perhaps it was just the realization that she had basically forgiven Cait because she knew it wasn't her friend's fault, but for whatever reason the angel sitting there acting like some all powerful god was supposed to be there judging everyone and everything just pissed her off. Fred knew it wasn't Caitlin's fault now, but if there was supposed to be some great god keeping people who did good things safe and punishing those who did wrong why were her parents dead? Why had she been the one to help kill her mother? Why was her sire still alive? Why was she, Fred, becoming alright with this situation?
She wore a white tank top underneath a blue hoodie along with a pair of black jeans that were easy to move in. She had two knives with blades the length of her forearm and she was slicing with blinding speed and magnificent grace at a giant log suspended on a chain by a large tree. The log swung every which way as she slashed at it with expert skill.
With every strike her mind berated her with another criticism about how she had become lax on her mission. How she should have been able to find a way to stop the bastard who turned her and killed her father. She had been trained by them yet she simply let Caitlin in without question. She was an idiot. She is a worthless hunter. She should be dead instead of them, and now she was growing to accept what had happened. If there was any sort of god, that would not have been allowed to happen.
With a spin and one final slash with the knife the log flew off the chain and into the woods somewhere. Fred scanned quickly and flung the knives hard and soon heard the thud of both knives sticking into the wood of the log. She then dropped down to her knees. She had worn her body out. If she were still human this would be the moment that she would have begun to breathe heavily, but instead she simply just sat in silence listening to the sound of approaching footsteps.