╳ ↘ ＤＡＶＩＮＡ ＣＬＡＩＲＥ ( rebornpyro ) || ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ϙᴜᴇᴇɴ ♔
she had not expected to end up here; so far from the bunker --- from the place she had been calling home after so long of calling a car such. the french quarter was not exactly an unfamiliar place to her. she along with her brother, had worked jobs here from time to time. but now, her mission was different. it was not about keeping innocent human strangers safe --- it was about keeping her gradually growing children safe. sam was a woman known not for her unwillingness to do anything she could for those left in her family, be they blood or not. the expectant huntress had dodged and killed members of an ever expanding army of angels, demons, hunters, and various other supernatural beings who would see her, her unborn son, and unborn daughter dead. today was no exception.
feet, dressed in mucky, bloody boots, pound the sidewalk’s pavement as she walks from a fight between herself and three demons who seemingly lacked any intelligence what so ever. the only solace she got from their attack, their crude ambush, was that they made for a somewhat decent snack. she had heard about a quite powerful witch in new orleans that may be trustworthy. though, she was not foolish. not in the slightest. sam still recalled the last time she put her trust in the hands of a sorceress. it ended with an entire vacant field filling with corpses and her almost losing the pregnancy. this time, she would be far more prepared. armed to the teeth, the determined, doggish winchester was more than willing to continue the day’s blood shed, add to the river of red flowing on her hands, even if it meant killing a teenager.
eyes of hazel flicker like emeralds in the sun as she searches for the adolescent of whom had been described to her. arms cross, resting upon her expanding abdomen. it is clear in her mannerisms as she scans the midday new orleans crowd that her patience, what very little of it she possessed, was wearing thin. all the while, a million questions ran through sam’s mind ::
what made this witch so profound ??? how am i supposed to trust a witch again ??? after everythin’ .... ??? can i even be helped by her ??? she’s just a teenager ... how much could she even know about antichrists ??? would they even be antichrists ???
only given a name and a description, these questions pertaining to the entity are not in the slightest unwarranted. she had every right to carry doubts close to her troubled heart. when she noted a smiling girl fitting the description given as she spoke with what appeared to be a friend, she tensed. could that be the witch ??? she was of much younger aesthetic than sam had thought. frowning, she waited until davina departed from the other before making any move towards her. then, and only then, does she jog towards her --- a smile, feigned and forced, coming to her features as she looks down upon the witch.
❝ are y’ davina ??? davina claire ??? ❞
thus spoke sam winchester, her accentuation hinting towards her midwestern origins. her head tilts fractionally as she awaits a response, all the while keeping stock of where each weapon was upon her person. not again could she afford to let her guard fall around a witch. NOT AGAIN.
