As she hauled him to his feet, a collision made her stagger back. It hadn’t been directed at her. No, it was the man she held that slumped, almost insensate. He hung his head, a trail of blood dribbling from his lip.
…Shadow Stalker?
Seeing a movement just outside her blind spot, opposite the man, Flechette pushed her captive down and away. She had to evade the weapon as it swung towards her head.
Alright, not Shadow Stalker.
Hm. Who are you and what are you doing? Assuming it wasn’t a miss, this mysterious attacker just took out one party and then attacked the other, so is this a third party?
Maybe this is someone from a rival gang? The Pure, for example, if my guess that the people we’ve been fighting were from Fenrir’s Chosen was correct?
It was the middle-aged woman that the men had been attacking. She held a metal trash can lid in two hands. Oblivious to Flechette, she swung the lid down at the man’s head.
Ahh, I see. She wasn’t trying to attack Flechette with that second strike, she just got in the way.
Ma’am, let the heroes handle this.
“Hey!” Flechette shouted, “Stop!”
She reached out to grab for the lid, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.
“Let her,” Shadow Stalker spoke.
…
I suppose Sophia is no stranger to taking out her aggressions through violence.
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