Name: Holly Stokes<br/>Age: 26<br/>Race: Lycanthropy Carrier (Asymptomatic)<br/><br/>Appearance:(http://i187.photobucket.com/albums/x237/zweites/ce13274309877981f843e9a036246e5e.jpg)<br/><br/>Items: Messenger bag, handcuffs, stock of medical face masks and latex gloves<br/><br/>Skills: Running. While she has had the benefit of Red combat training, and she has impressive physical and observational abilities due to her condition, Holly's gift is running. Built for speed and always wary of her surroundings, she uses the landscape to her best advantage. Inhumanly flexible and strong, she has a significant edge over uninfected humans.<br/><br/>Personality: Holly is an abberation, her condition making her dangerous to humans and incapable of joining the ranks of the ferals. This has colored her personality to some extent. Despite her feral tendencies and animal cunning, she most closely associates with the life left behind. While she personally is deeply contemplative of all matters from philosophy to economics in this winter wasteland, she remains a creature of unwavering focus. Describing her as "Goal Oriented" is an understatement. She is only interested in the specifics of her task, adhering to a set of dogmatic rules that have thus far kept her alive and others safe. Extraneous details are to be ignored.<br/><br/>History: Bad things happen to good people, they say. Holly prefers a more apt turn of phrase, that in Hell, everyone is having a bad fucking day. Tragedy in her formative years served to shape her into the creature she is today, but what truly galvanized her was the realization that with the end of the world, everyone has had more than a fair share of tragedy. Clutching things to your heart that are already taken from you are of no benefit, Sun Tzu said. You can't unfuck a situation, only deal with the baby is how she would say it... if anyone asked.<br/><br/>Sure, she had a rough time, but she'd met a woman without a lower jaw, who had to be pushed around in a little wheelbarrow everytime she needed to hit an out house. It could always be worse, Holly rationalized, so she never complained.<br/><br/>She's never been one to complain about her past. Even after they found her in the wolves den, left for dead. Even when she felt mixed feelings when they made her lose the halfbreed child of her couplings with the beasts. Even when they told her she'd turned the men who had saved her into monsters, she didn't complain. One with a kiss, one with a scratch, one with a little bit of both and some heavy fucking. Her intentions didn't matter... they were dead men. Worse than dead. In the old days, there was fear that drinking from a pond wolves drank from could make a werewolf out of the thirsty traveler. There were no stories about drinking from between the thighs of a woman who had been fucked by wolves though.<br/><br/>At least none until Holly started them.<br/><br/>Asymptomatic, Holly carries a payload of the lycanthropy virus, leaving her unapproachable by the uninfected. Under a free range quarantine which she adheres to meticulously, her condition is not without benefits. With enhanced senses and physical abilities, she is uniquely suited for missions through areas where the wolf vectors are particularly dense. Her speed and agility serve her well as a messenger, as well as her self imposed code of conduct which has seen to her continued survival as messenger and decoy.<br/><br/>She shuns Red team weaponry, possessing a mild allergy to silver. Noted more for her grappling abilities and improvisational skills, they are rarely applied, as she relies most heavily upon simply running. It has garnered her a reputation in the game of cat and mouse, as the fastest, meanest bitch mouse in the field.<br/><br/>The foremost of Red's messengers, Holly Stokes confines her questions to the most basic. Where is the package going? When does it have to be there? Who does she deliver it to? What the package is, has never been much concern for her. She's the "woman who can outrun death" and details would just slow her down.