Faylyn fluttered her eyes open, slowly waking, the sound of the waves smashing close by. She held herself up by her arm, noticing the soft foam of the ocean close by, the cold sand underneath her body. She felt cold, and looked down, immediately noticing her naked body. She shielded her breasts straightaway and darted her eyes across the beach, hoping for no onlookers at her predicament. She saw no one on either side, though she turned around and noticed a pair of booted feet and she looked up, noticing a man a burly man standing a foot from her body. A shaggy blond beard covered his face, a black jacket hugged his body, "Well hello there pretty lady." He licked his lips in satisfaction, his eyebrows raising at the obvious sexual thoughts. Faylyn's eyes narrowed at the man and she stood up, continuing to hide her breasts with her right arm. She saw the smug smile on the man's face before she hit him hard in his jaw. His hands went to his face, alarm spreading in his features. She hit him once more, in his eye before she spit on him and took off towards her bike.<br/><br/>Faylyn was in a steady run, noticing after a few minutes that she was a few miles from where she had left her bike and she sighed at the thought. The run led to a few whoops from beach goers, though she was relieved to see it was extremely empty, the early morning and cool weather obviously keeping most people away. She reached the site of the abandoned building and she stopped to take in the site,<span style="font-style: italic">This would be gorgeous rebuilt...maybe I could just...</span>Her head filled with a dull pain and she let the pain take over, letting it pass as she always knew would happen as the scenes filled her thoughts,<span style="font-style: italic">Her breathing was heavy as she made her way through the old house, smashing dressers and furniture in her wake. She roared, the beast inside her full of anger and hate. She moved on all fours as she approached the front door before she easily busted in open. She leapt down the stairs in one jump...</span>The images stopped and she was grateful. She continued, happy to find her bike in the same parking spot as she has left it. She popped open her seat, her extra pair of clothes hidden in the inside for moments like these. She pulled them on quickly, eager to hide herself, and enjoying the warmth they brought. She pulled her leg over the bike and as she pulled on her helmet, she felt the throb once again,<span style="font-style: italic">She was in a well lit house, the large windows over looking the ocean in moonlight. She ripped apart furniture as she jumped, going after the couple in the house. She heard their screams, the frightfulness in their eyes as she made her way to overtake them..</span>The memories subsided and she screamed out in anger, hitting her bike along with the feeling,<span style="font-style: italic">Month after month....all these years and nothing changes</span>She sighed, calming herself, though disgust filled her thoughts as she made her way back home, knowing she needed to grab her things and make her way to Scotland.<br/><br/>Faylyn approached the home and saw the change immediately. The roof had collapsed, the interior burned away, leaving the stone a charred hollow shell. She stopped and took off her helmet and looked in awe and confusion, "My home..." she whispered. She smelled the smoke, filling the air with its stench. She walked to the door and pushed it open. It slide with static noise, the ash behind it moving. She was the only noise around as she made her way gently through the rubble, pieces of wood and furniture all around the mansion. Her heart beat fast. She knew her family must have survived, escaping to Scotland earlier that day, though she understood the mansion was not meant to burn,<span style="font-style: italic">Unless they wanted that...but they would have transported the ferals first....oh no...</span>She made her way into the basement, though she noticed it was blocked, wood covering the walkway down the stairs. She listened for the sound of them living, though found none. She smelled the air, but she understood the degree of the situation. It was then she realized another scent, belonging to Alistair, fresh and new that hinting before and after the fire. The realization was immediate. She thought of the werewolves and their brutal death, not having died from the fire, but having been brutally murdered, in human form and wolf, their screams as they must have knew what was transpiring. Confusion filled her mind, unsure if she would have done the same,<span style="font-style: italic">Though they were already suffering....but what about....and this is my home...all these years.</span>A tear escaped down her face and she headed towards her bike, revenge large in her thoughts. She pulled back the throttle, knowing a few places to search, though unsure of his whereabouts, she knew her skills were worthy.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/cb/St_Andrews_Castle_Main_Building.JPG">Burned Building</a>