la push beach, 10-ish pm / for @fngsbared
winnie wants to fight. not unusual, almost compulsory when she feels like this – the stress of the night is eating her alive, chewed her up and spat her back out several times over already ( can this be considered playing with your food ? ). it's reminiscent of a tiger in a cage, or a beast threatening to claw its way out of her heart ; a familiar but entirely unwelcome feeling. it's like she tries to grow, to break out of it, but then she blinks and she's right back where she started, worried and alone on la push beach. she watches the search parties fade into the trees, shadows blending with the leaves while the lights illuminate their way. winnie won't go yet, she can't – there's only one way to cover as much forest as she'd like, and unfortunately, no one's going to let her wolf out in the middle of the goddamn bonfire. she bides her time, flits her eyes around, and – ah, yes. perfect. “ you're awfully out of the way. ” not kind, but observant. the way she talks to him when she's poking the bear ; the sicker part of her hopes his stress will push him, too. “ and you're all lookin' real ready for a fight – i don't think it'd be smart. personally. ”