Blue eyes lift up to meet those of this stranger , a tilt of the head. They’re silent in nature , observant. But for now there is no move made to engage in combat. Though they vaguely consider reaching for the hilt of sword and shield. It’s instinct , second nature to strike first as they’re weary from war and constant threat of attack. Not a word.

This time they’ve chosen to be silent.

    “Where the hell did she go?!” A voice, breathless from the chase, bellowed towards his colleagues. The sound of three pairs of shoes colliding with the wet asphalt continued. The nameless felons continued ransacking the alleyway, kicking over trashcans, tearing through every perceivable hiding spot, and even tried climbing the walls to scout the roof. “That bitch has to be around here.”

      ‘Well, you’re half right.’ While her thoughts produced the rare remnants of confidence, the 18-year-old clamped her lips shut. Her scarred digits pressed against her sealed mouth. Every inch of her body trembled and she gagged on her breath. By the corner of her eyes, she only saw the faintest shrinking shadows bolting down the alleyway. 

   Crimson snake down the side of her head and she felt the warmth staining the side of her hand. She reclined against the wall as her fingers fidgetted. She brought her bloodied hand to her eyes, inspecting the stickiness between her thumb and middle finger. 

    Fortunately for her, she had the time to wander in her thoughts as her last-minute plan to hide worked. With only a 50% chance, she was more than impressed by her quick thinking -- or there lack of when she convinced herself that using all of her stamina and faking out her own movements would’ve worked. 

    The next step was now to see where to go and not get spotted. 

     Sophie drew back her hand, trying to ball her hand into a fist. ‘Concentrate, Sophie. This isn’t the worst situation you’ve been in.’ For a foreigner and someone of her repertoire in costume-making, one would’ve assumed that she understood the sensitive and particular natures of outspokenness and stubbornness. To withhold her tongue and keep neutral was among the first lessons she was taught as a girl.

    But, if disorderliness was caught by the corner of her eyes, the hesitation was dropped and her qualms vanished. Wildfire could’ve danced on the tip of her tongue from the works she weaved but, that was all she could do. And, that was how this most recent predicament happened. 

   Heavy-lidded eyes looked past her eyes, ready to continue her fleeing with now a lethargic and staggering walk. She turned slowly. ..But, her blood ran like ice down through her sickly body.

   A stranger before her, their head of purple quick to catch her attention. ‘Shit, was he with them? Shit, shit.’ 

    “Who--?” A murmur barely past her lips as her shoulders locked high in their place. “Who are you?”