wildmage_daine

It's past nightfall, which normally means it's past time Daine got back to the farmhouse. But her hours are still a bit wonky, thanks to at least one nocturnal housemate and the fact that she's rarely required to be anywhere before mid-afternoon. So, she's out flying. Owl shape is one of her favorites, and if she burns off a little magic, she'll be more likely to feel tired and actually get some sleep during the hours when she ought to.

She doesn't have any particular destination in mind, and is gliding over a neighborhood she's never even set foot in when she hears a woman scream. It seizes at her, though it's not a voice she recognizes. It certainly doesn't sound anything like Ma. But even now, years after the farm was razed, Daine can't stand the thought of a woman screaming and no one coming. Heart in her throat, she stoops toward the sound.

Two men have the woman cornered in an alleyway, one with a knife in hand. Daine allows herself only a moment to regret the fact that this is as likely to terrify her as her assailants as she drops into the alley on silent wings. She shifts quickly into wolf shape behind the men's backs, earning herself a wide-eyed look from the woman backed up against the brickwork. The man with the knife starts to turn, but Daine's already surging forward to clamp her jaws around his arm and yank him back, aiming to jostle the knife out of his grip. The woman screams again, but this time it's joined by a cry of pain from the man she's grabbed hold of and some startled cursing from the other one.

There's something grimly satisfying about dragging him away from his quarry, an echo of the cold fury she'd felt when she ran with the Pack. But there's no Pack here -- or none that can be expected to help her, now. Not that she expects a couple of two-leggers to challenge her overmuch, especially if the woman has the good sense to run.

But she's so focused on the knife that she doesn't see the other man fumblingly pull out a gun.