Overture Downs Shattered, I will capture you, so run

Winifred.

Win felt her jaw clench so hard it ached, enamel scratching enamel in such a way it sent pins and needles through her entire body. Her body language locked up tighter than a maximum security prison, the very projection of confused rage.

Th’fuck you doing out here? Bitterness corded through her very muscles, and Winifred twitched, swinging her head wide to look in every direction.

And of them with you? Her voice was rough, accent that was entirely fake, just like the rest of her thickening with emotion.

Ophelia had never been a threat, but damn if she didn’t feel like one now.