darks winters wear you down || open

lou swung a the dummy. slicing the head off, stuffing and cloth exploded around her. she let the sword fall to her side. it was odd, holding such a weapon. lou's hands were made for guns. she loved the sound of the trigger and the little jolt after firing. it felt awkward holding the hefty sword. her hands became sweaty and her coordination was off. lou let out a breathy sigh and knelt down, being to gather up the shredded dummy.

as much as the war was scary, lou wished she was back. she belonged there much more than she belonged here. sure, she loved camp and she loved the people who lived here but, she felt out of place. after gathering all the remnants of the sham brought them to the industrial-size trash bin in the corner. just as she turned around to walk back to where she left her sword, an arrow hit her right in the bicep.

outfit