#wolfbeacons

@wolfbeacons sent: ❝ do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in right now? ❞

HER HOME IS COMPLETELY DARK when she returns, still riding the high of the day's victory and the pleasant buzz a couple of celebratory drinks at the Spread Eagle had left. Today marked a huge triumph for the resistance. John Seed was dead, and with his death, there remained a flicker of hope that they may just succeed in washing away the stain left by the cult. Though there was still so much work to be done, especially in the Henbane and the Whitetail Mountains, the Peggies' influence in Holland Valley had all but crumbled. Now it was just a matter of time before the other regions followed suit and were liberated from their respective Heralds. The fight was far from over, but tonight was not the time to plan for the future, tonight was a time to revel in the glow of her achievements, leave the hard work for tomorrow.

Perhaps it was the influence of the alcohol that had distracted her, or her own smug pride that kept her from taking complete stock of her surroundings before getting too comfortable for she did not notice the dark shadow lurking in her kitchen. Not when she first entered her home, nor when she turned her attention to the fridge while humming a cheery tune to herself as she perused its contents. It was not until a soft, but familiar voice cuts through the darkness that she became acutely aware she was not alone. 'do you have any idea how much trouble you're in right now?'

At first her mind refuses to believe the sound, the voice which haunts her nightmares is right here with her in her home, and not being blasted over some radio, or over the crackly static of an intercom at a Peggy outpost. More pressingly, she refuses to acknowledge the truth of the matter. She'd let her guard down, she'd become too comfortable, and had missed all the signals that someone had forced themselves into her home. Except this wasn't just a random thief in the night, this was him.

He was perhaps the most dangerous brother of the Seed family. His military background, army of Chosen, and understanding of the human psyche made him an intimidating target, and a deeply fascinating character, moreso than the rest of his family. He had put her through his trials once already, had played his sick games with her mind, and now she had walked right into his trap. Goosebumps crop along her arms, the hairs raising on the back of her neck as she stands frozen in place. A small, prideful, part of her is glad that he cannot see her shocked expression, she would not let him see her fear. Another, more logical, part of her realizes that her back is turned to him, making her all too easy prey, weak even. And you know what happens to the weak.

Eyes had fluttered open the second he heard boots 'pon dirt approach the cell, and for a moment Emmer simply stares into the other cell next to him, watching as men throw themselves at each other; snarling like animals as they fight.

He's been there for three days and it feels like it's been weeks. Body aches from his own trials, beaten and bruised as he lays there silently, listening for clumsy frantic steps, bumbling apologies; any sign of Pratt. The deputy is met with nothing but the sound of rustling fabric and he finds himself turning only slightly to look behind him, attention moving to the left briefly before settling on the eldest seed.

“  your pain only makes you stronger.  ”

There's a tremor in his arms as Emmet pushes himself up, shifting to face Jacob fully. The fact that he still can't see or hear staci does nothing to stop the dread that claws its way up from the pit of his gut to his throat, and he isn't sure if it's that or the lack of food that makes him nauseous. Swallowing past the drool that suddenly floods his mouth, the deputy finds himself nodding despite it.

on it, hoss, one hat arrow sexuality comin’ right up!