<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/8c/3a/9f/8c3a9f7bb4b4a2e864440b40d267d19e.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Psylocke<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Forest Outskirts<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Sunday, Sept 3 just after midnight<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Rahne Sinclaire<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Being a ninja.<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Alone and wounded made for the perfect prey.  Secluded and moving slowly through the thick of shadows and woods made for an even more optimal target.  Rahne fulfilled all those requirements as she made her way through the dark of the night.  Often times she had been watched during her nightly outings or her morning runs.  Set upon by a pair of eyes more skilled in the art of stalking than she and certainly more nuanced in the profession of stealth.  Even now, just a breath from her ear a presence hovered at her steps.  Psylocke was careful though, careful to keep down wind and careful to keep her mind alert.  Rahne might be vulnerable but she hid something that might not be so timid inside her.  They all did.<br/><br/>Against the side of Rahne’s throat came a feather light touch.  Like the wind brushing her skin but that sensation would soon end.  A slat hand snaked beneath Rahne’s jaw and then beneath her throat until the crook of an elbow was tucked nicely into place.  Another hand came up to lock the hold into place.  The feel of breasts behind her could be felt and the scent of a woman’s perfume tickled her senses.  There was only the press back of shoulders to cut off the carotid arteries before the world began to swim.  At her ear there was a darkly seductive voice as if Death herself decided to visit in these final moments.<br/><br/>“You are dead.”<br/><br/>A set of teeth nipped at her ear.  Firm enamel gave a nip of pain to that intimate placement of flesh.  Then one arm released and shoved Rahne forward so that the world could once more come into focus just as she hit the ground.  Around her came the soft steps of a long legged figure.  Every movement a sway of her hips and projection of her dominance over another.  One hand lifted so that her finger could tap on her lips.  Around her neck a scarf of white and red was layered atop a burgundy top that seemed to cling to her breasts more than her shoulders.  There was the slightest hint of a flat stomach to witness at the bottom’s edge.<br/><br/>“You certainly spend a lot of time on your hands and knees from what I hear.  In fact I hear that you being on hand and knee is why my Saturday nights, as pathetic as they are, are in jeopardy.  That doesn’t make me happy at all princesses.”<br/><br/>The moonlight dared now to light the features of the woman who spoke.  Knees bent so that she could crouch down for the other woman to see.  Midnight hair of black and purple lifted suddenly in the night air.  Gossamer strands of light worked at the edges of a smirk on her full lips.  Denim did the best to contain the powerful curves of her legs but served only to outline their fullness and strength.<br/><br/>“But since I doubt Laura is going to stop running to your defense I figured now would be the time to see if this will be a recurring problem or just a onetime thing.”<br/>