Strike three. 

Kip sat perched atop a barrel, looking over the scene before her. The body of a man lay sprawled on the cobblestone, blood pooled around his right side, face frozen with the pain, fear, and anger that accompanied his death. A scruffy looking constable was bent over his body, prodding around with his bully club. It had just been her luck that he had been nearby conducting a training...

Parker ‘Buck’ Owens was an average 5’5” on the dot, unless you ask the army, then she was 5’6”. She hid her defined musculature under heavy work clothing; sturdy long sleave shirts and heavy cargo pants were typical for her daily wear. She kept her brown hair in a small bun showing off her recent undercut. Buck almost always wore a baseball cap of some kind on her head and verything she owned was ...

Stillness. The kind that makes the hair on your arm raise. That makes your ear strain to find the cause. A calm that triggers instincts from an older time to ask _where is the danger?_ It’s almost as if you can see the air itself trying to puzzle it out. True silence was unnatural. Evident of a beast lurking just beyond your view, but not the birds.

As if the world itself hit pause to see what w...

So not to sound like a broken record, but you know that if you filled up your car with the De-icer fluid instead of keeping it in the back seat you wouldn’t have to stand in the freezing cold every morning splashing it on your windows like you’re dumping gasoline on a getaway car, because you’re too tired to really enjoy how cool that concept is. 

Not that _you_ could ever really commit a crime.

R...

Buck lived in cargo shorts before she joined the military, now if her pants didn’t have at least side pockets she wasn’t wearing them. Her right cargo pocket was reserved for parts, small tools she was using that day. Her left cargo pocket contained a small first aid kit, narcan, and a packet of electrolyte powder. the right side of her belt held her multitool and beside it was clipped her pocket ...

The trees were different here. Varying in size and crowded together so tight you could hardly tell one apart from the other it was no surprise their leaves concealed so much about the terrain below. That did little to muffle the sound however. The forest was _alive_. A symphony of sound filled the air with chittering, croaking, snapping, fluttering and a steady dull hum. If she focused hard enough...