Her Bleeding Eyes (Shan, Reanna & cameo by Elijah )

[Pi dArtois]

(anyone is welcome to join! Pi is standing on the street somewhere near... umm Lancaster's? - so close to home, yet.. so far)

There was something wrong with her vision, she couldn’t see past a faint fuzz obscuring her eyes. Using the pads of her fingers she rubbed at her eyes, blinked more and winced at the sharp stabbing pain behind her eyelids. She’d over done it. She knew she had but she couldn’t help herself. After months of stagnation, something siezed her and made her want more.. more of everything she could get her hands on. Like a drunk on a bender after months of self enforced sobriety she threw back shot after shot of whatever it was she had denied herself for these past months.

And she’d denied herself plenty. Too much. She had held back learning anymore about herself and about what she could do. When she had first become this thing, this vampire she had thrown herself head first into the world as a dehydrated fool in the desert would an oasis with waving trees and life sustaining water.

Something along the way she had lost that… lost the drive to do more, be more, find out more about what it was she was capable of.

Apparently that arid desert of non-action spawned something worse, a drunkard. Ex-addict needing a fix, unable to deny or stop herself from taking a long deep draught of everything, all at one time.

She should have paced herself. She should have only searched for one of the wraith guides, asked only one to teach her what they knew.

But she was greedy. She felt she had a right to be greedy, to take all that knowledge in a vengeful fist and make it all hers. She was tired of not knowing all she could know, of holding herself back, as if withholding her curiosity would salve… she didn’t know what she thought ignorance would fix. Any fool would have pointed out to her that ignorance didn’t breed happiness or contentment, it merely disguised it with apathy.

She wasn’t feeling so apathetic now.

In fact, she was decidedly not apathetic and she was probably feeling way too damn much. And what in the hell was going on with her eyes. Pi blinked again, the glare of the… umm streetlight, yeah, the streetlight, was making the sharp pain root around in her brain, stabbing first at the left side of her eyeball, then switching unapologetically to the right.

And rubbing wasn’t helping.

In fact, rubbing her eyes might be making it worse.

The wraith guides hadn’t told her anything about these side effects and she wondered then too if they didn’t really have a mandate on what to say to any fool vampire stupid enough to demand three of them teach her … in the same night.

With her hand covering her face Pi slumped against the cold metal of the industrial pole, her face pressed against the cool surface in an attempt to stave off whatever it was that was happening inside her head.

She’d forgotten her jacket in her hurry. Half dressed, her jeans rumpled, her tank top untucked and twisted around her waist. There was no doubt she was not at her best, nowhere near her best. Maybe somewhere along the lines of.. vulnerable.

Berlion, ummm Vadasz and… the other one, the… God, she couldn’t remember the name of the third, or was it the second one she’d cornered. She couldn’t remember now. Her binge had created a black out zone where she’d obviously OD’d her brain and any moment now grey matter would be oozing out of her ears and dribbling what was left of her consciousness in to the nearest drain to wash away with the next summer rain.

“Ohh yes Papi… this… was not your brightest … moment.” She muttered, not moving an inch for fear more stabbing pain would be the reward for her temerity.

“You need to move..” she said to herself, because sometimes what a person needed was a self-induced-pep talk. Except her body wasn’t cashing the cheque she was pushing, ie, she wasn’t moving despite the pep talk.

“Go find… someone… to tell you .. what. The. Hell. You’ve. Done. To. Yourself.”

That didn’t work. Talking to herself in short sharply defined words had net her about the same result as the previous attempt at motivation. She was in trouble and it looked like, she was going to stay here hugging this lamp post until her brain decided to catch up with her jacked up body.

Brujo! That's the one Pi had forgotten. The third.. Brujo and with that pithy thought Pi closed her eyes and held onto the pole letting it prop her up.

[Shan]

Shan was hunting. She wasn't hunting the usual, no, the hunters in the sewers had given her enough trouble as is. She had decided that the guides were enough for her full plate as was - considering her thought to rejoin Ty, along with her thoughts of Nyla and her thoughts of her very human thrall clouded her mind heavily. She decided that the guides were plenty to handle as she focused, trying to find them the best that she could as she shifted into a wolverine for what little time she had left.

She knew that as soon as the day would end that she would be back; that she would shift back into the vampire person that she was. She knew that. She knew that she was also thankful that her shifting over the years from being on the bridge had afforded her the knowledge of shifting with clothing also proved to be useful, as the clock over the honeymead library struck 2 am est and she shifted back into the tall, muscular killer vampire that she was. She grumbled. It was always easier in animal form.

She headed into the station to the left, entering the train and letting it take her to the right, over towards wickbridge. Exiting, she paused for a moment and giving a sniff, she realized the guides weren't far as she made her way to the museum and entered it quietly while the sun set behind her. She never had a problem with the sun - being a killer apparently had its perks as she had learned over the years. The museum was empty as far as she could tell except one loud enough noise made her walk closer - snoring - or something like it.

Shan reached the noise, standing with her jaw clenched. Pi. She knew this woman, from all accounts of what Nemesis had told her the night that the woman had shot her during a boat raid of sorts in search of a rare relic or tome. Shan scoffed. This was the perfect pay back, seeing her clutched to a pole snoozing. Taking a step up to her and raising her hand, she brought it down in a swift hard motion, crossing the woman's face without hesitation as the woman had done months ago without hesitation past the sights of her gun while shooting her.

"Wake up. This isnt the place for your naps." She droned, the slap hitting home as she reached for her gun; instinctively thinking that Pi would reach for her's in such a hostile act.

[Reanna]

The night had been quiet, boring. It was natural for her, really. She usually enjoyed the silence of the sewers, the cling of the shadows - but something had begged her to leave. Something inside of her wanted to know more, wanted to see more of the world around her. She kept to her own circle for too long. It wasn't the people she wanted to interact with, but the city. She needed to learn the in's and outs of the exits, the streets and buildings. The quest was made more than difficult with the cops on every corner firing their shots as if she were one of the most wanted.

Even now, she was filled with multiple gunshots, the bullets lodged in her chest and stomach, blood soaking the black of her cotton t-shirt. Thankfully, she had chosen one of the darker colors. It wouldn't do well for her to walk around with the dark red substance clinging to her clothing for everyone to see. Shaking her head, she lifted her pack of her cigarettes from her pocket and placed one between her lips. As she fished for her lighter, she heard the voice first she'd heard in a while following the sound of a sharp 'clap' of skin on skin. Rolling her eyes, she gave a low sigh. Just what she needed, she thought sarcastically.

"Do you always go about hitting people?"

The question was asked in a robotic, monotone voice that came from her iPad as the Russian stepped from around the corner, brow arched and arms crossed over her chest casually. It was an odd sight indeed. Something that she wasn't entirely used to seeing. She knew the woman standing, though not personally. She'd seen her around at meetings, but couldn't think of her name right away. Something close to... Shannon? Shayl-- No, Shan. Every had mentioned her a time or two, but she'd never bothered to introduce herself. What was the point? She hated people about as much as they hated her. However, this was different. Something about the way the woman stood over the comatose victim woke something inside of her. The sight was all too familiar, after all.

It had been a few years since Reanna had been curled up in a dirty street, begging for help. It felt like a lifetime ago, really. Brushing her fingers through her hair, the lithe woman took a few steps closer and nudged the one clinging to the pole with a boot. She should have just kept walking. Normally, she would have. There wasn't a reason in the world that she would stop for two strangers on the street. She could just hear Every's voice now, laughing at her, mocking her for getting herself tangled into a dramatic cat-fight on a street corner. Not to mention how her husband would react if he knew that she had taken a detour from her usual haunt to explore.

Shrugging her shoulder, she slipped her hand beneath her leather jacket and pressed her fingers to the iPad, the words coming out quickly as her fingers skimmed the keys. 'Is there a reason she is clinging to the pole like a run-down stripper?' The words were followed with a faint smirk as she flicked the ash from her cigarette onto the ground near Pi, the filter stained crimson as those dark, cold eyes scanned the features of the standing woman. She was relaxed on the outside, but inside, she was coiled. Restless. She didn't know how the other would react to a new presence, but she let none of that show in the mask she wore. Instead, she crouched down and gripped Pi's jaw, inspecting her for signs of struggle.

[Pi dArtois]

Pain was one hell of a catalyst. It breached the walls of her consciousness and brought her out of her fugue and made her aware. The pain was fleeting, the sharp sting just what she needed. She thought, maybe. It certainly worked to make her blink and focus, except the focus waned and dulled, only to sharpen again as the woman who hit her spoke.

“Putain!” She swore, shaking her head like a shaggy dog flicking off water after a bath. It didn’t help. And she wasn’t sure if she was swearing at herself, or at the woman. Except, she suspected if the other hadn’t slapped her she might have been standing out there in the street getting cosy with the lamp post when the sun come up and that would have hurt like hell. She just wasn’t in much of a position to say thank you.

And she wasn’t letting go of the freaking pole though because Pi suspected that it might well be the only thing keeping her vertical. But she knew swearing at it, and at the circumstances she found herself in was also ragingly unhelpful. Except, when all else seems to fail her, swearing seemed like the better option. And letting go of the pole and standing on her own two feet probably another good idea that seemed an impossible feat.

It was a hell of a position to be in. If she was in her right mind, and then came the thought that maybe she wasn’t entirely in a decent state of mind because she wasn’t entirely worried about the fact she was standing in front of a stranger. Two strangers.

Neither of which sounded all that sympathetic to her plight. Where the hell were all the good Samaritans when you needed them. Surely there were a whole host of bastards who wanted to reach out and help the insane clinging to their sanity on the streets? Of course, this was Harper Rock, home of indigent vampires and other nasties. She expects all humanitarians had run for their lives at this point. All but Elliot. Her Elliot. The Elliot she should probably have called as soon as her brain short circuited and pole slumping had begun.

Even as she had the thought it floated away, flittering off as she attempted to realign her concentration to the now, and not on the ‘I wish’.

Rolling her shoulders Pi tried to push herself upright, because slumping there seemed like a really bad idea. Talking would probably be good too, she figured, so she gave it ago. Attempting to sound normal, when all she could really hear was a crashing white noise that threatened to drive her bat ****. And smoke, acrid, nicotine and close. The second woman? Some other ******** Pi couldn’t see.

“Savez-vous où est Brujo? Je veux lui botter le cul!”

The second voice intruded, with less impact as the first, stopping her question mid tirade. Yes, she wanted to find Brujo. No, she had no idea what the hell she was going to do to him if she found him again. Not much cause the dude wasn’t exactly ‘present.’ With a sigh, Pi concentrated on what she was saying, feeling like the words came in ebbs and flows like the tide. Sometimes clearn, sometimes not. The first had announced her presence with a wallop, but enough to give Pi the wherewithal to realise that alone on a street being held up by an inanimate object was probably better for her continued safety than being on a street, vulnerable with two others standing around watching her as she lost her freaking marbles.

With another shoulder roll and a wince Pi pushed herself upright, shifting her position to keep both women in front of her. Not that she could do jack diddly in her state but it seemed prudent to try not to make such a pretty target of herself. One act of violence upon her face was all she was willing to let slide. And one nudge of a person’s boot.

Yeah, over that too. She was standing though, so win for her, and on her own two feet so she’d call that a double win and high five herself for the accomplishment.

Her mind flashed a ‘high five’ and in a blink it left her and what was left behind were two women. One, now that Pi had decided to take a proper look, seemed familiar. She didn’t know why, or where, but she’d met that one. The other, drew a complete blank. Neither of them wore a humanitarian expression. That didn’t bode well. They hadn’t tried to shoot her, gut her or kick her ***, so she supposed this was a win.

So maybe, just maybe, if she asked for help, Tweedle one or two would help a girl out.

“Bonjour. J'ai besoin de votre aide. Pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît m'aider à Lancaster’s.” she asked nicely, congratulating herself on her very reasonable tone. In fact, she almost sounded normal. With it even. Sadly for her, she ended the almost normal dialogue with a vague wave of her hand in the direction she hoped was in the direction of the bar where Elliot would be. “Il est .... là-bas.”

What Pi didn’t realise, was that she wasn’t speaking English and her mind, bent sideways and operating near on automatic and reverted to the language she was most comfortable with. Sadly, for the women who had spoken in English, she had no idea she wasn’t speaking the same.

Yeah, brain leak in progress. Pi, just didn’t realise.

I don't speaky ze French. Any errors in French-ness please blame Google Trans :)

[Shan]

Reanna. Shan knew who she was. The woman was, by every right, drop dead gorgeous. Shan smirked a bit, giving a shrug. "She's lucky I didnt shoot her." She admitted, shifting her weight to one foot before crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive manner. Red hues watched Reanna carefully, her muscles still twitching as if she were itching for a fight while Pi cussed in... french? Was that french she was sputtering? Shan went still, like a statue, her eyes piercing as they trained on both the woman at the same time. She snickered, giving a roll of her shoulders before she turned her head and looked down the street - one could never be too cautious. Besides, if Reanna had shown up, who knew who else had been lurking.

"Beats me. She needs to get inside. Having a vamp burnt to a crisp in broad daylight isn't a mess that is exactly easy to clean up." Her words were like stone directed at Reanna, heavy and sincere - she herself had just dropped from the list after three long months of fighting for her life. Hitmen, and even a duel to the death (that she had won, thankfully) had spent their time trying to end her and send her back to the dreaded realm. Shan didnt so much mind it there - her madness was increasingly easy to succumb to - but that didnt mean that each time she came back she didnt have to fight for little pieces of herself that were shattered and splintered in her mind.

Pi spoke again, though it was clear the woman was having issues as Shan's brow furrowed. Did she know she was speaking in French? Shan had dated a french woman years ago so she knew the simple things - it only took two or three times for her to figure out quickly when the woman had been cussing obscenities at her. Though she wasn't sure why Pi would be clinging to the pole cussing out about Brujo, one of the wraiths. "She's clearly lost her mind." She said, shifting her weight again though making no movement to get any closer or further again.

Pi spoke again, this time more clearly, if Shan had known French. All she could pick out was the 'please', and 'Lancaster's'. She brought her hand up and scratched at her achy throat, scraping long manicured nails down the front of it a couple times before throwing up her hands and looking back to Reanna. "Did you understand that more than I did?" She was about ready to say **** it, and pull out her tome and leave the women there to fend for themselves in all honesty, but at the same time she knew that this situation could prove headway for her knew campaign - Love thine enemy. For Shan everyone was an enemy, and she trusted no one, sans three people in the city. But none of those people were here and she rolled her eyes before turning her head to look around again, keeping a close watch on the eerily dead city street.

[Reanna]

The burning ember from her cigarette flickered as she watched the psychotic woman. She hardly understood the English language, yet now the pole-clinger was spewing venom in what seemed to be French. It was easy enough to tell. The language of love or something equally vomit inducing. It was all rather pathetic, really, and yet – she seemed to have found herself right in the middle of it. Shaking her head, she pinched her cigarette with her thumb and index finger as she blew the smoke carelessly into the wind. ‘She really doesn’t like you,’ her iPad spoke, jade eyes snapping to Shan. Even as she said it, the thought of shooting her flashed into her mind. It’d save them both the trouble, really.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t done it yet. A bullet to the brain, send the psychopath to the Realm and be done with her evening. However, she knew that wasn’t the way. Not anymore. With a groan, she mentally lectured herself as she moved nimbly back to her feet. Just kill her, little sister. That’s what I trained you to do. The voice spoke from behind her, and she felt the cool brush of the ghost’s fingers over her shoulder. Her own flexed towards her gun, the burning need to pull the trigger causing her bicep to tremble before she shook herself out of it. With gritted teeth, she focused her attention back on the pair.

‘She wishes to go to Lancaster’s,’ she responded after the other spoke, her calm request almost making the Russian crack a smile. The emotion was fleeting, though, as she shrugged her gun over onto her back. “She cannot walk herself. Look at her. She looks worse than dog toy.” These words finally came from her own lips, Russian accent heavy as she gave a low, unamused chuckle. “Carry.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and that was made clear as she kneeled down and put her hands under the others arms. Ignoring her own wounds, the brunette made a motion to heave the other to her feet.

Under normal circumstances, she would have left the other clinging to the pole if she’d been too weak to walk, but this wasn’t a normal night. If it was, she'd be in bed with her husband or sparring with her childe. Not on a deserted street with two strangers, one of whom looked like she'd made a new best friend with the ground and steel pole. Instead, she was being the good little vampire citizen with her brother's spirit mocking her. She didn’t like this humane feeling. Not one bit. It was more trouble than it was worth. “Lancaster’s,” she spoke for Pi’s benefit, just in case the other tried to fight her. Hell, she’d fight herself too, if she’d been in the pole-clinger’s shoes.

She was going to kill Kirill for this.

[Pi dArtois]

“Bon!” Pi replied as if she understood exactly what the other women had said. She hadn’t, not really but it seemed like a good idea to fake it until she made it. She threw in a smile for the hell of it, then threw out a hand to the pole as she started to list sideways, righting herself quickly.

It wasn’t that she was drugged or that she had lost her sense. It felt more like she’d lost her equilibrium, like her inner ear had gone on vacation and left her holding the bag. It wasn’t a great position to be in, she could tell someone that for free.

Waving her hand she indicated the women proceed her, the movement meant to indicate her ability to follow along behind them, except she wasn’t entirely certain of her ability to move her own feet. But damn her she was going to try. “.Plomb sur! Je vais vous suivre.” She waved again, motioning them forward.

“Allez. Allez!” The problem with telling people that you would follow where they led would be attempting to follow through and she had to face some facts pretty quickly, despite her motions or her words, she wasn't in any shape to walk anywhere. Which led her to a rather sticky quandary, how then, was she meant to get herself from a to b without the ability to use her own body to get her there.

The problem stumped her for a whopping ten seconds before she remembered the existence of her cellphone. Which was then followed by a crystalline moment where she vaguely wondered where her phone was and with that thought came a light bulb moment that made her slump back on the pole, realizing she wouldn’t really have to move and these women could carry on with their lives and leave her right where they'd found her. “Attendez! Je pense que j'ai mon téléphone?! Oui? Je vais appeler quelqu'un. Ils viendront me chercher.”

Fumbling around in her pockets she dug first into the left mumbling as she did. “C'est stupide.” When that turned up with nothing she then checked the right, adding sotte voce “Où diable est mon téléphone?” Nothing there either. Her voice reached a higher pitch as realization dawned that her phone, wasn’t where it should have been. “J'ai juste eu le!!” And when that failed she even checked her bra rummaging around in one cup, then the other before coming up empty.

Staring at the two women, her eyes wide and bright, “J'ai perdu mon téléphone? Ugh!”

Dropping her head back to the pole she let her lids drop, heavy and weighted as they were, the energy she had expended leaking from her outer extremities. “Savez-vous comment se rendre à Lancaster de? Elliot va m'aider .. s'il vous plaît?”

Yeah, she wasn’t going to get to Lancaster’s on her own. So she was going to need help, or she was going to be sleeping rough under this damn pole. If her eyelids were anything to go by she knew exactly what her body was voting – rough, street and pole pillow.

Stupid body.

[Shan]

Shan couldnt help the small twitch of her eyebrow at the words that came from Reanna's i-pad. Her muscles twitched as well, rippling in her biceps and triceps as she suppressed the urge to haul off and punch the Russian bombshell. Her lips curled into a half attempted bemused smirk. "I give off that vibe." Was the only explanation she offered for Pi not liking her as she turned her head back finally and surveyed the two once more with her scientifically altered crimson iris'. She found she was growing increasingly perplexed at Pi speaking french; though it quelled for a moment when Reanna confirmed the suspicions Shan had of what Pi had said about Lancaster's.

Pi had exclaimed then, of what Shan could have only assumed was that Reanna was right, but then Shan saw something rather entertaining. Reanna had started to mime. Shan's brows raised and she watched the women, one clearly going crazy and the other following shortly after. A sharp laugh emitted from her throat. Now this was entertainment! She watched, clearly amused as she brought her arms to cross them over her chest and shift her weight to her back foot. She watched from a step back, fingertips tapping in succession along her muscular arm there as Pi waved her hands at Shan and Reanna in an attempt to tell them to go. "Did she just 'shoo' us?"

However she didnt move, standing like a gargoyle statue on top of a castle's roof, watching and biding its time. Pi then searched for something, what Shan could easily deduce was her phone, giving another sharp laugh as the woman checked her bra even. Shan shook her head then, grumbling as she waved to Reanna, then jutted her thumb at Pi. "Just heave her over your shoulder already. Its clear she cant do much of anything but speak in french. Annoyingly."

[Elijah Cole (DELETED 5419)]

Elijah had a long day at the animal clinic. They had taken in the contents of one small puppy mill, seeing to nearly three dozen dogs and a dozen cats. They all had been groomed, bathed, vaccinated, and treated accordingly. A couple of emergency surgeries had been completed on a bowel obstruction, a fracture, and a few broken teeth too bad to attempt to be saved. He had assisted as he could, pitching in and jumping from one task to another. He was thankful though that he had been able to run - literally, home earlier to let Colonel out for a small walk and feed him an early dinner.

He was sure to take the miniature beast out tonight. In fact, he had been cutting through Wickbridge to go to the bank for a withdrawal for cash when he had turned the next corner to see a small gathering of females. No redhead meant that Zelda had not been included in the bunch. Though disappointed that he had not managed to see her that day, there was an issue at hand that needed his attention. He frowned, instantly assessing the situation as two were standing with what looked like their hands in their pockets while the other was hugging onto the metallic pole for dear life. He drew closer, smelling like dog shampoo and sterile cleaner. As he approached the women, French was upon the tongue of the one lounging against the light as if she had nothing better to do than warm the area underneath her.

Of course, he gave a nod to the two women as he cleared his throat. He certainly didn't care to draw himself upon them in an unfriendly manner. No, he knew about the tales this city kept and the secrets that lurched into the nightmares of those with weak wills and superstitions. "Good evening, ladies. The woman there is simply expressing her unhappiness about losing her phone. She would like assistance to Lancaster's. I do believe it is more of a recreational bar and meeting place. It's located in Redwood. On the corner of 17 and 32."

Yes, Elijah understood French. He did not speak it terribly well, but languages had always been a hobby of his. He took a deep breath and held it, his heart ticking inside of his chest. Elijah could often not bear to see anyone injured or taken advantage of. In his black slacks and his black button up shirt, he let his hands slide into his front pockets. He was a man of decent height, just over six feet tall with long brown hair that was currently pulled back into a simple, functional ponytail at the nape of his neck. He refused to conform to most facility rules, but was able to get away with having his hair long when he was not necessarily employed by such a strict company. "Do you need assistance in getting her there? It seems someone by the name of Elliot will know how to help her."

He waited. While he would let the women decide how, he crouched down and reassured the woman. As he addressed her, he gave her the hint of a smile. Though he was tired, and his eyes were crystal clear in that ever light blue color - there were dark circles underneath his eyes. He briefly remembered frequenting the bar prior, a man by that name had sent a drink his way once. "Bonjour. Oui, je sais où Lancaster est. Nous vous y arriver et à votre Elliot. Ayez de la patience, ma dame. Ils ne savent pas ce que tu voulais."



[Please note and forgive any misinterpretations. I, too, used Google Translator.]

[Reanna]

Was this city filled with morons, or did they simply overlook her?

It wouldn't be the first time, really, but it would be the first that it bothered her. She was going out of her way to help the strange woman, when she would have been more than fine with putting a bullet through her thick skull and sending her to the Shadow Realm to find some rest. Instead, she was crouched down on a street corner and seeming to be looked straight through. As Pi began to babble on again, the Russian took a step back and held up her hands. "Neit," she snapped, a sharp biting growl to the word.

She was quickly losing her patience with the lot of them.

Pain thrummed through her body, and the scent of her blood was strong, nearly overpowering as she moved back to her feet. It wasn't strong enough, however, to overpower the stench of... dog? Jade eyes snapped to the left when the man emerged from the shadows, the smell following him like it had become apart of his skin. Her nose crinkled instantly, and it a lot of strength to not lift her hand and wave it in front of her face. However, this was a woman who spent the first year of her life skulking around in the sewers. She could handle wet dog. What she couldn't handle was the fact he seemed to just intrude in, and according to her app as it translated his words back to her, tell her what she already knew.


With a flash of annoyance on her expression, she closed her eyes. The words that Helena had tried to teach her flashed into her mind, and she forced them out, Russian accent thick and rough. "I have said that. She needs Lancaster's Elliott." She even rose her voice a tad, as if that would help them realize she'd been saying the same words since the beginning. She wasn't sure if it was her, or the people in this city had drank something that made them all deaf and stupid. She just wanted to get the woman out of the street and where she belonged before sun rose. She could already hear Kirill and Every snickering away at the predicament she had put herself in. She did not want to hear what they had to say if she kept herself out and got wounded because of some ******* pole-clinging stranger couldn't handle her health better.

Her mind was made up.

Without another thought, the brunette crouched back down and wrapped her arms around the woman. "Neit," she repeated as she put all her strength into lifting her from the ground bridal-style. Her nails dug into her sides as she held her in place, her expression blank as she ignored the pain while it shot up her spine and into her chest. She didn't bother looking back at the group as she headed down the street, before something gave her pause.

Where the **** was Redwood?