<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/39/Townsend.png)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>John "Townsend" Templeton<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Law Dog (Rank 3)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 20th<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Night<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Moving from the sheriff station to the Whateley Estate<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Lilah, A Goddam Whateley, CLOSED<br/><hr/>He gave a little growl in his throat.  “Quiet.  Quiet or I’ll show you what a naughty boy I can be,” he warned, eyes narrow.  Though the mention of Granny made him go a few shades paler.  The creepy old hag, in her wheelchair, talking calm and reasonable like while she put him through hell.  He gave another shudder.<br/><br/>He gritted his teeth, for a moment about to reason with the unreasonable, mad girl-woman.  “You ain’t outta trouble til you’re back home, you little slit.  That means you stay<em>quiet.</em>Quiet.  No talking, no singing, no damn dancing.”  He pushed her forward again, taking a few steps after her.<br/><br/>His teeth grit even more, fingers flexing over the knife in his hand, the gun glinting in the moonlight.  A quick stab, the tug of a trigger - there was no way Granny would know it was him, was there.  He cast over his shoulder, looking at the shadows and giving another shiver.<br/><br/>The damn shadows always felt like they were watching him anymore.  It was like walking the edge of a knife, all the time.<br/><br/>“Shut the hell up,” he hissed.  “Stop that damn singing.  Stop it!”  He put a foot to her backside, kicking her forward and sending her sprawling into the dust between two houses, the darkened alleyway making her porcelain skin stand out even more.  He clicked the hammer back on the gun.<br/><br/>“Now get up.  And walk.  Quietly.<em>Quietly,</em>goddam it, or I’ll blow your goddam head off.”