[It's a valiant effort, at least. She's running after him with fire in her eyes, and the moment he rounds a corner he can probably hear the sound of her flying by and just narrowly missing him, her claws tearing through a newspaper box like it was paper. Metal clangs to the floor and she's lunging, climbing up the side of the nearest building with her claws and vanishing up onto the roof.
It's quiet, but not wise to assume she's left. Oh, she's watching and following, bloodshot eyes scanning as she sneaks through the night. It's not a great feeling, the sensation of being watched. And stalked. Hunted, for lack of a better term.
As long as she kills him, it's fine. She can only think of that. Just kill him, and move on.
no subject
It's quiet, but not wise to assume she's left. Oh, she's watching and following, bloodshot eyes scanning as she sneaks through the night. It's not a great feeling, the sensation of being watched. And stalked. Hunted, for lack of a better term.
As long as she kills him, it's fine. She can only think of that. Just kill him, and move on.
Kill the target, move along to the next target.
It's easy and thoughtless.]