Third Person
Bianca sits on the hood of a car. An apple sits in one of her hands while the other balances a knife. The blade reflects the afternoon light back into her eyes, the flash illuminating the scowl that sits on her face.
Werewolves and Lycans alike scurry from all around her. Each and every one of them has their own mission, their own command that Bianca has placed upon their shoulders. They avoid her dangerous gaze, knowing that her wrath is unpredictable and chaotic, a frenzy to be avoided.
She digs the knife into the apple, beginning to slice bits and pieces off from the fruit’s core. She pops them into her mouth one by one, watching as the men who have sworn their loyalty to her work throughout the day.
Bianca has found refuge in a costal town on the west coast of Soren’s
