she was just a girl

Goes by the name of Vi, hides the Jekyll under her skin and will do anything to make sure that those her run with her, belong with her. Pure of Heart → 605 Corrupted Soul → 2896

[clayton-doyle]

Lingering in the hallway, Clayton waited for Violet’s door to close firmly before walking into the unlit kitchen. Their conversation left a stinging taste in his mouth, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was to do with the fact that he was useless to her. He was a walking disaster, just waiting to explode. And Violet had the unfortunate job of making sure he didn’t.

And, although there was a hint of his squashed pride speaking, the main reason he didn’t want to be useless was because he wanted to help her. Simple as that. He was a wolf, yes, but he wasn’t a heartless bastard. If shown a tiny bit of compassion, he would respond appropriately. That wasn’t to say he was anyone’s rescuer, because he wasn’t. He didn’t seek the glory or warmth of saving people; that wasn’t his goal. But he liked to believe that he was fair, and their relationship certainly wasn’t.

He flicked on a light as he passed into the cluttered space, staring around at the piles of dishes and discarded packaging. This was his life. Eat, breathe, get beat up, sleep. He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t want him to be her friend. He could barely get through the day without having second thoughts about tomorrow, so how could he help her through her own hidden pain? He might not even be around the next day for him to lend her an ear or a shoulder. 

You promised, he told himself. You promised her you’ll be around. And you owe her. So cope, you bastard. Cope.

[clayton-doyle]

Clayton eyed her strangely. He couldn’t quite understand where this was all leading. So were they just going to have this odd little arrangement where Clayton could go crying to her while she kept all her secrets? He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the sound of that, but these days he rarely cared about doing himself justice and finding satisfaction. He was a low life, a useless shell of a person who only opened up to those who would spare a second to listen. Perhaps he really had been shut up for too long; he had thrown so many of his deepest thoughts at Violet that he couldn’t blame her for feeling overwhelmed.

So as they reached their dingy house, he returned the smile and said, “Sure. If that’s what you’d prefer.” It didn’t matter that he felt guilty for their one-sided relationship. If this was what she wanted for now, so be it. There was nothing he could do to change her mind, and he wasn’t compelled to do that anyway. He had other things on his mind, like telling Jethro about Sage, and surviving another day to make the woman next to him less burdened by his weakness.

He unlocked the front door and pushed it open for the both of them. He sensed Gavin in his room upstairs. Clayton sighed inwardly, wondering if he was going to get pummeled by the brute again if he ran into him. “Well,” he said, turning to face Violet, “that was an interesting talk. But thanks. For being the one that’s always helped out.” He shifted on his two feet, feeling the urge to say something more. I’m not always like this, he wanted to say. I don’t always act so…warm. Or open. I’m not like this with everyone.

But he simply gestured at the stairs, indicating for her to go up without him. He headed for the kitchen. “Goodnight then.”

[violetwashername]

She didn't return his goodbye. Instead she went straight into her room, bolting it shut on instinct. Her hands lingered around the locks as she thought about what she'd promised him. From now on, she would have to get out of the habit of keeping her bedroom as isolated as possible, just in case he needed to talk to her. Tonight wasn't the night to start.

It was unlikely that she was going to be able to sleep. She shouldn't have promised him her friendship when she knew she was only going to make matters worse. Even today she'd been unhelpful, confronting him rather than offering a listening ear like she was supposed to. There was something about Clayton that frustrated her. He was everything she dreamed she could be but he was going about it all wrong. He should have taken pride in the way he was, should have stood up to the pack members who judged him for repressing his wolf. Then maybe he wouldn't make Vi's wishful life look so lonely, so miserable. How could he not see how blessed he was?

She could hear him downstairs, probably writhing in how much he hated himself. Occasionally she felt bad for him. Her heart would get heavy and she'd hope someone would come along to hold his hand and make all the pain go away. She avoided those thoughts. They were the ones that reminded her that like him she was completely alone, and she couldn't help but feel like she deserved to be. Those were the days she prayed to God to make her life easier, but God never answered the prayers of a werewolf like her.

[clayton-doyle]

Just when Clayton thought he’d found someone he could share a vaguely healthy bond with, suddenly it was all being whisked away. He stared into the distance, eyes following the rows and rows of trees as her words sank in and slowly dissolved into his thoughts. He wasn’t even hurt, he was just mildly stunned and a little perplexed at the sudden turn of events. But if he was honest with himself, he had been expecting something bad to happen. Nothing came easy to him.

All he could muster was a small ‘oh’ after her grating words. He kept walking, his pace not slowly at all. He nodded vaguely, accepting what she was saying. “Fair enough,” he murmured, pushing his hands into his jacket pockets. “I suppose if we’d met under different circumstances, you and I would hardly get chummy, would we?” He tilted his head, watching the cracked and dirty pavement pass beneath his feet. She was pushing him away, but he wasn’t fazed. This was better than having someone ram their fist into his gut countless times, wasn’t it? This was a far more humane solution to put him in his place, right?

So why did he suddenly have no more words left? Was it acceptance, or disappointment?

[violetwashername]

Vi kept walking. Even under these circumstances, they were the least likely friends. She was smart, a fighter with an internal fort saving her from hurt. Then there was Clayton. Unthoughtful, overly passionate, too open. Ironically as opposed as those things were, both invited isolation with open arms. In truth, Vi was lonely. She could see the exact same look in Clay's eyes whenever they met with hers. That kind of sadness that never went away. She thought she'd found the answer with the pack, and it did help, for a while. But still she was an outsider. What was it about wolves that made them desperate to push themselves away from human contact?

It was wrong. She wasn't friends with Clay because she was the one who had to clean up his messes. In fact, she wasn't his friend at all. For once she wished she was. She wished she could confess all her secrets and let someone know her concerns for a change, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She needed to survive and she could only do that alone. You don't need to be an omega to be a lone wolf.

They were approaching the Slums when she finally decided to end the silence. "Clay... I'm sorry. I was way out of line, I just. I want to be your friend, truly, but I don't want you to be mine. This relationship, it can only be one sided. You can't expect me to open up to you because I'm not going to. But if you ever get lonely or scared, knock on my door, okay? I'll always be there to listen."

[clayton-doyle]

Clayton was about to make another remark ('steak sounds good') when Violet cut him to it. He cleared his throat and felt his cheeks flush a little. How else was he meant to talk to her? Or did she want him to keep silent unless he had some life-threatening crisis at hand?

"Sorry, I dunno…it’s just sort of, weird, when there’s nobody to run away from, or when I’m not bleeding myself to death.” He remembered their previous talk, how Violet had said he was the only one she could consider an actual friend. Was there really nobody else? "How have you got on with the locals then?" he asked, a sliver of indignation present in his voice.. "How do you talk to people?”

[violetwashername]

"I speak to them the same way they speak to me - with respect." She felt guilty saying it, but it was needed. He couldn't pick on her for a fault she couldn't help. She only asked because he was being too human for her to handle. It was curiosity, but he was being accusatory. "You know Clay, I don't have friends because I don't feel like it's necessary. I do my job and that's it. The reason we are friends is because you fuck up so often that I feel a need to protect you. That and we live together. Most people I barely know, but you, well you just can't seem to find a way to hide yourself. You know what I take back what I said, we are not friends. I'm just the girl you have to fucking run to every time you lose, which let's face it is pretty god damn often."

It was callous of her to say that, she knew it from the moment it left her lips, but in some respects it was true. Vi wouldn't have gave a damn about Clayton if he wasn't the weakest member of the pack. It wasn't like she had anything other than advice to offer herself. She wasn't brimming with personality, she lived in misery most of the time and as far as her looks go, well all her prettiness melted away with insecurity. Maybe in another life, Clayton Doyle could fall in love with a girl like Violet Moore. Only she wasn't Violet Moore anymore and even if she was, it was unlikely she'd ever be with a loser like Clay.

[clayton-doyle]

Their conversation was slowly caving in on itself. Clayton couldn’t blame Violet for not being good at small talk. After all, he himself was a certain failure in that aspect. And besides, she didn’t seem to want to hang around much longer. He didn’t feel disappointed; he was rather used to her distant nature.

But her hesitant and almost sarcastic reply made him smile, which somewhat made him feel less self-conscious. “That’s very true. We do need to keep nourished.” He scratched his arm, thinking back to what he’d done that day. “Actually, I don’t think I have eaten.” He wasn’t surprised. Eating wasn’t a particularly enjoyable thing any more.

"D’you remember what’s in the fridge?" he asked, another particularly mundane question. It was funny, speaking these thoughts out loud with someone. He was so used to being alone that he often forgot he had flatmates. "If there isn’t, so be it. I can’t be bothered to get anything."

[violetwashername]

"There's steak. There is always steak." She was baffled. She could vaguely remember having these sorts of talks with her friends, back before her life became what it is now, but it wasn't something she thought she'd ever revisit. They were werewolves! Talking about serious issues comes with the territory. Sure she'd ran into some odd creatures from time to time, the ones who put their love lives among all else even though there were much bigger issues at stake.

Something needed to be done. She couldn't take being involved in such an ordinary conversation. It was too normal. Too human. If she went back into those waters, she wasn't sure what lay ahead for her on the other side. "Clayton, do you talk to people like this often? It's kind of uncomfortable."

[clayton-doyle]

 Her final remark seemed like a challenge. He bit down a smile. He had never been competitive, and the last thing on his mind was proving himself to her. That wasn’t the point of all this nobility and steadfastness. The point was to show back the sort of care she had given him, like comrades, so they could get on even footing.

Perhaps he was doing this for his own curiosity about the woman standing before him, with a torrent of unspoken words on her lips. He always turned down challenges, but mysteries were a different thing. Which was why he shrugged non-committedly but fell into step beside her all the same. “Sure. No point in standing around, attracting attention.”

They walked down the street, their buildings slowly changing as they headed toward the Slums, the rougher part of town. It was difficult now to keep talking. What else was there in their lives to talk about? “Have you…had dinner yet?” he asked meekly, avoiding her gaze. He was sure they were both painfully aware of his attempt at normality. They were playing another game of pretend.

[violetwashername]

She kept her eyes ahead of her, unsure of what to say. Dinner? Really? They'd literally been having one of the most intense discussions of their lives and the only thing he could think to ask was if she'd eaten? Vi would have preferred the silence, at least it was respectful in it's awkwardness.

"No." She didn't bother to return the question to him. Partially because she didn't much care for the answer, but also because she was afraid of spending more time with him than necessary. She planned on going home and going straight into her bedroom. To Vi, the best time to eat was when everyone else had gone to bed, then she wouldn't be disturbed.

"If you wanted to buy something, I'll just walk ahead. Or you could borrow some of my food." The conversation was drifting into a place she wasn't sure she liked. Small talk wasn't her best skill, and with Clayton it was completely unfamiliar ground. The wolf had managed to come to her with countless amounts of problems in the past, but they'd never managed to sustain a conversation outside their positions in the pack. In fact, Vi rarely engaged in any contact that wasn't due to her status as the caretaker.

"I... You... You should eat if you haven't eaten. It's my job to... you know care... take... so if you need to eat you should. The pack needs well fed wolves."

[clayton-doyle]

Clayton shook his head in disbelief at Violet’s words. So she didn’t want him to die, despite how weak he was, despite how much of a burden he was, and despite them never being able to have a normal conversation. She still wanted him around. And that was almost enough to make him smile in a bittersweet sort of way. What could he say to that? That he also cared for her in his own removed and uncertain manner?

He bit down on his tongue, as though his body was telling him to stop talking, but he found himself opening his mouth and continuing, “I was bullied in highschool. I was bullied in college. And it’s the same today. After decades of the same shit, you sort of realise that coping is the easiest option. I’ve always learnt to cope, Vi, so that’s not how I’m gonna die. Because coping is my way of life, d’you see? I’ll cope.” He glanced up at her, and realised that he was indeed smiling. Why? To reassure her.

He didn’t feel that he was being reassuring enough, though. He could still see the tension in her eyes. He shouldn’t keep her worrying like this, always leaving her guessing on her toes, making her wonder if she’ll wake up to the news of his death, by the pack or witches or even hunters. She deserved…better. So he reached out and squeezed her arm gently. "I promise. I won’t die."

How strange. He had lived most of his life not caring if he’d be alive the next day; now here he was promising that he would survive. This wasn’t for himself. This was for her. All for Violet. Because it would make her life easier. And hopefully staying alive would be enough to repay her for her kindness.

[violetwashername]

You shouldn't have to just cope. What was the point in trailing through each day if they weren't worth living? Her excuse had always been cowardice. She'd rather be a monster than dead. What was Clayton's? The things he subjected himself didn't scream survival, not to Vi. He looked like he was fighting for something more. Something she'd stopped seeking out a long time before.

She drew in a deep breath, steadying her core. She hated it when she became too emotional. Especially when it was in front of someone so weak - it made her feel like the lesser wolf and the wolf was all she had. "I guess I'll just wait to see if you break your promises."

"Anyway I don't... I'm going to head home now. Do you wanna walk with me or have you got somewhere to be?" The night was beginning to draw, she could feel her claws waiting to burst out her skin. She was hoping Clayton would take her up on her offer. After all that had happened in the past few months, she felt it was best she kept a firm eye on him as often as she could possibly stand to.

[clayton-doyle]

He sighed tiredly. It was easier said than done, to control his anger. Before coming to Bindlebrim, he’d been able to hold it together. But now, with hardly any freedom left, being surrounded by so many hostile creatures and his own pack just made everything ten times worse.

He scoffed at her suggestion, more out of disbelief than scorn. “You think any of them’ll want to train with me? They don’t want anything to do with me. It’ll taint them. Or they’re like Gavin and want to beat the shit out of me, which is hardly practice, right?”

He ran his hand across his chin and shrugged. Their talk was starting to make his head spin. “To be honest, I just want to stay the way I am. I wanna just…cope. I don’t want to care about being human or a wolf or all that.” But that wasn’t the truth. In reality, Clayton had no idea what he wanted any more. He hated Bindlebrim, hated being stuck there with no room to think clearly.

[violetwashername]

"You'll never be able to cope the way you are. Eventually you either lose yourself to the wolf or you die trying to stay human, that's just the way it is." Her words were little more than a hush, but the cold impact of them echoed louder every second that passed. She didn't want him to change. She didn't want him to become just any other member of the pack, validating her theorem that they were nothing more than monsters.

She hated Clayton. She hated that he screamed in his sleep when he thought he'd done something morally wrong. She hated that he tried so hard not to fit in even though he was punished for it everyday. She hated that she lost herself within one night and here he was holding on to whatever was left of him. "I don't want you to die Clay."

She wanted to rip his head off, make his death swift so she didn't have to sit through his demise. Then she could get on with the mourning while things were still quiet and she wasn't needed. She'd never be able to do it - somewhere deep down there was that little inkling of Violet Moore who couldn't kill the people she cared for, even if it made her heart burn to know they would one day kill her.

[clayton-doyle]

And just as quickly as it had disappeared, Violet defences came back, shutting out any further attempts to ask about why she was scared, or why she even thought of him as a friend. Was it only because he was more human than them? If that were the case, perhaps he would try harder to suppress his wolf.

"Well, there must be a reason you’re caretaker, right?" he asked gently.  "If you didn’t have that caring side, I don’t think you would’ve taken up the job." But then again, maybe she was doing it because none of the others wanted to. He mulled over her words, telling him to prove himself. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by it. Prove that he was a vicious fighter like them? Or prove that he was different?

"You never know. If there’s still hope for me, then there should be for you." A thought occurred to him. He didn’t even know how old Violet was. It seemed like she had been through a lot more than him, but he hesitated to ask. "Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a fighter. That’s more than what I can say for myself. But that’s probably ‘cus I never could accept the violence."

[violetwashername]

"I am a great fighter. I know I can hold my own, that's the whole reason I became a caretaker. I don't particularly like to fight all that much, it's too testosterone fueled for me, but I know I can if it's needed. Part of being a caretaker is that you don't pick your own fights, they are chosen for you by your pack. I took the job because I knew I would be able to protect them, not because I feel like I have more empathy than them."

Vi thought about it for a moment. When she took up the caretaker position, she had been thinking about how much she wanted to be integrated. She didn't want to be alone. She couldn't tell Clay that, not after the way he had reacted to her opening up to him. What she told him then, that was one of her little secrets, it wasn't a skeleton in her closet. It would offer no help at all if he were to find out that loneliness played just as much a part in her life as it did in his.

"You don't need to accept the violence Clay, you just.... you need to let it out at the right moments. You keep storing it up and letting rip on some poor innocent girl, we're gonna keep having this problem. Maybe you start helping the pack practice with you, then maybe it will take out some of that anger you got stored up in there."

[letsfootlethetimeaway-blog]

[clayton-doyle]

It was quite impossible for Clayton to wipe away the expression of clear surprise off his face as Violet spoke. These thoughts and worries, they hardly seemed like the type of things she would confess to anyone except herself. But here he was, standing there and taking it all in, and only now could he fully appreciate just how scared she was beneath her armour.

"I know, they scare me too," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze as well. "Not in the sense that I’m scared they’ll kill me. Dying doesn’t scare me; what scares me is becoming like them." He shook his head, a grim smile playing on his lips. "So it means a fucking lot to me when you say that, Vi. Even if it makes me a target in the pack. After the whole thing with Sage, I’m really starting to doubt just how human I am. I don’t wanna be like them. So hearing that from you…" He let the sentence hang.

"And I understand. I wouldn’t dream of telling them. That would be indecent, considering how much I’ve relied on you." His eyes flickered up to hers for a second. "And just so you know, I think you’re above the whole lot of them."

[violetwashername]

"Yeah okay this isn't confess your deepest darkest secrets time, we're not on Dr. Phil. Let's just... drop it." Her heart was thudding. She didn't want to be his savior, at least not a  therapeutic one. She wasn't someone he could rely on to take away all his pain. He wore his heart on his sleeve, there was far too much emotion for her to process. If he thought that she could in some way ease it then it would only get worse. Vi had her own heartaches to contend with, she didn't need his to add on top.

"I'm not above them Clayton, you're just saying that because I'm not mean to you. I'm not all that human either, I wish I was, but I'm not. I let that side of me go a long time ago, but there's still hope for you so..." She shrugged, unsure whether to encourage his internal fight or to tell him off for being so thoughtless all the time. As a caretaker she knew which one was the better option for the pack, but she knew somewhere deep down Violet Moore would have preferred the other. "Prove that you are actually capable of something. For once."

[clayton-doyle]

Perhaps he had taken it too far. Clayton groaned inwardly, wanting to turn his back and walk away from all this confusion and tension. He hadn’t meant to insult her,and he wanted to hide from his mistake. But he stayed where he was, because of something she had said. Something small, but oddly significant to him.

"I’m your friend?" he asked, tearing his gaze off the floor and looking up at her, somewhat stunned. Her acknowledgement of their bond - despite how unstable it was - made him feel a little better. And that was just as surprising as discovering that she saw him as a friend. "I wasn’t expecting that. At all. But you’re a hundred percent right. Of course I’d die if you didn’t do your job. But…you know, you should let me help you too. I wasn’t supposed to sound so ungrateful. I guess I’m just…frustrated. Because you’re always doing the saving."

He failed to tell her that the reason he hadn’t already gone off and killed himself was because he wanted to repay her. For her unwavering help that he had foolishly just tried to deny. And the only way he could repay her, in his eyes, was to get closer to her, to learn about her. But every time they talked like this, it always ended badly. He was making progress, though. At last, she thought of him as a friend.

[violetwashername]

Had she said 'friend'? It must have slipped out in the heat of the moment. It wasn't something she'd considered before, but she guessed that in some form it was true. Clayton was the closest thing she had to a meaningful relationship. Vi wasn't sure if that knowledge was comforting or frightening. Perhaps it was a little of both.

"Of course you're my friend. I live with you, don't I? You think I'd wanna be stuck in that little hut with just anyone." She bowed her head to the ground, picking off the skin from around her fingernails. "I love the pack, I do. For the first time since... since the bite I feel like I have a family. A place in the world. But... a lot of them... they scare me. They don't seem human anymore. No matter what you do Clay, you're always wrong about something. You think that the wolf owns you... it doesn't."

"You're insanely human. Too human in fact, that's why you're such a fuck up. Don't tell anyone I told you this. They all rely on me to be fearless, to make good decisions for the benefit of the pack. You can't let them know that I think their all fucking animals or I will turn it on you. As much as I don't think you are the worst thing in the world, I wouldn't think twice about giving you to the dogs if I thought for one second you might betray me. You understand?"

[clayton-doyle]

He sighed. It seemed like that every time he spoke, he would always cause her concern or distress. It was probably better if he just kept quiet around her from now on. But he was quietly surprised; she had used his nickname, which wasn’t very common.

"I appreciate your help. I mean it. I know this…this plan of yours is just to clean up after my mess. And I’m sorry. But I’m not ‘yours’ to protect." A hint of indignation crept into his voice by accident. "You’re caretaker, I get it, and thank you for all those times, but I never asked you to watch my back 24/7."

[violetwashername]

Annoyance crept up in her voice, matching the tremble in her hands. "If I don't do it who else will? You think you can cope all by yourself then be my guest. Become an omega. Leave the pack. Believe me Clayton, you couldn't last two minutes without getting yourself killed. I'm not just your caretaker, I'm your friend so why don't you get your head out of your ass and realize when you are out of your depth. You think I like having to support you every time you screw up, having to explain to the others that you are good enough to be in this pack. I'm not saying that you belong to me or anything, if I had no one else but you I'd hang myself, but if you genuinely think that you have to ask me to support you then fuck you."

[clayton-doyle]

Violet’s outburst silenced Clayton for a few seconds, not least because he was aware that there were suddenly tears in her eyes. “I don’t…okay, I’m sorry. Just, don’t cry again, this is gonna be okay. You are, anyway. I’m not sure what’s waiting for me after all this.”

He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, not sure if he wanted Violet there with him. It was just another opportunity for her to see how weak he was. And she’d had too many of those in the past. “Of course. I’ll let you know right before I tell him. I guess you can decide whether or not you wanna be there.”

[violetwashername]

"For gods sake Clay can you just-" Vi placed her head into her hands, pressuring the remaining tears from her eye, and stretches out her face, "can you not do the whole 'you'll be fine, I won't be act' please? If anything happens to you then nothing is okay. You're mine to protect." She paused to catch her breath, not allowing her gaze to meet his. "I wasn't crying. You piss me off that's all."

"I wanna be there. Jethro is less likely to rip your throat out if I'm by your side. He respects me."

[clayton-doyle]

"I…whatever. I don’t see any other way out of this, but if your plan makes the rest of the pack happy, then so be it." He glared back at her. "Even if a girl’s life is just taken away." He bit his lip, knowing that all Violet wanted was to keep them all safe. But he couldn’t help himself.

"I know you can’t do everything, it’s just…like you said, I seem to mess things up when I get involved." He sighed. "Fine, fine. I’ll figure out the best time to tell him." He chanced a hesitant glance at her. "We’re not exactly in a rush to do this, are we?"

[violetwashername]

Her lips stiffened to a straight line as red flushed her face. She was no longer interested in keeping herself cool. "You took away that girl's life Clayton, you did this. She gave herself a few extra months and we allowed that because she deserves that time, but you signed her death warrant the moment you lost your head. Don't come crying to me about morals when you abandoned yours."

Regaining her composure, she chokes back the tears that are forming in the corner of her eye. "No but do it soon. We don't have time for you to avoid the situation. If you need me for moral support, then we can set up a meeting or something? But you have to do the talking."

[clayton-doyle]

"I didn’t murder her, Vi, so please don’t use that word.” His hands clench into fists, but he forces himself to calm down. “But if nothing happens, if they don’t do anything, we’re in the clear, aren’t we? There’s no need to make things worse by actually killing her.”

He eyes her carefully. “You haven’t told Jethro…right? I’d be happier if we kept this between us for now.”

[violetwashername]

She drove her eyes into his, keeping herself as expressionless as possible. "How do we know they aren't planning some kind of attack Clayton, huh? Have you seen them roam around and act like everything's normal? If she disappears, we will know how much they know. We make it swift, we make it seem as if our hands are clean and then if they act we know that she told them about you. If nothing happens, then we are in the clear."

"And for the record, no, I have not told Jethro. If I approach him it makes you look weak, you don't want that. It will piss him off and god knows what will happen to you. No offense Clay but I can't do everything. Listen Jethro's smart, we could use his help but you have to be the one to tell him. You think you can do that without fucking up?"

[clayton-doyle]

He rolled his eyes to himself. “You know what I mean.”

"And of course I have, especially after our…discussion. The last thing I want to do is upset any more witches." Or you. ”Have you noticed anything different about them?”

[violetwashername]

"You mean other than the fact that they don't seem to exist in this town anymore? Nope. Not a thing."

"I've seen a couple lurking around but they aren't part of any collective so I'm guessing we are safe for a while... or extremely unsafe." She scopes her surroundings, making sure no one can listen in. "I hope you're not thinking this whole thing has blown over. I still meant what I said in our discussion. We can't leave things as they are now, placing our trust in some little girl who you murdered isn't a route I feel like walking up."