[center][color=00aeef][b]Fayth Morrow[/b][/color][/center]
[i]What, did I become a lightweight all of a sudden?[/i] Fay wanted to reach out and snatch the bottle of whisky back from Kalib. But then again, she couldn't quite blame him for thinking she was about to get drunk. No one really knew that Fayth had a rather high tolerance for toxic drinks in her system. Honestly, four quick shots of whisky made her buzzed but it was nothing in the grand scheme. Also, Fay happened to work as a bartender here on some nights. She could deduct it from her paycheck if need be! It quieted the noise of her mind. Helped her focus. But she sacrificed a certain amount of self-control, and the caged animal of rage inside could be released a lot easier. Somewhat of a bad habit when she needed to forget things. The only thing that blew off steam and calmed the blazing fire of her anger was the one thing she wanted to stay away from; fighting. Unfortunately for her, being a warrior amongst werewolf ranks was perhaps her greatest talent.

Sometimes Fay got it, sometimes she didn't. She could be secretive and aggressive when instead she should try to remain as calm as possible. But when her life is on the line with hunters and potential enemy werewolves, it's hard to keep a zen master approach watching a pack completely fall into disarray. So unorganized at times. "None of you would survive more than a few days out of your little bubble here…" Fayth said under her breath. Watching Kalib speak to Carlson. Keeping an eye on Mori who was flirting with a hunter. There was no thought in her mind that said he could just be a deer hunter. Years of abusive experiences taught paranoia. Always thinking of her own safety. No one is who you think they are. Trust is not an option. Fayth understood the reasoning behind Mori's actions, but the omega wanted nothing to do with violence. Blood on her hands became old. Looking in the mirror at the scar on her face. It would never go away. Stains of death never washed away for her. Fay decided then it was time to change how certain functions of this werewolf clan were run. She hopped over the counter and looked right at Jesse.

"Tomorrow at noon. Since you seem to want a rematch so badly, I'll give you one. We'll see if you can entertain me for even five minutes." Fayth took the direct route at Jesse's pride. Feeling there was no way she'd turn down the opportunity for a fight. Though, she made sure to keep her voice down to a whisper. "Just our legs and our fists. No weapons. Not that I'm scared of you holding a baseball bat anyway." This wasn't about pride anymore. Fay wanted to use this as a teaching lesson. To show Jesse just how much she had to learn. If Fayth could motivate Jesse to become a better fighter, the pack could be more well off. If Jesse became less aggressive, that could be a benefit as well. "Meet me in the woods by Grey Lake. You know the spot. You can probably find me by scent if you've learned how to track me successfully yet." Fay pat her on the back as she followed Anton outside. 

Fay's ears perked up as she took in all of the sounds of the night. The rustling of the leaves gently blowing from a soft breeze. Water from a nearby lake. Animals talking amongst themselves in the dark. Snaps of twigs, the wind caressing her cheek. Soon her scent picked up what it was looking for. Anton. The omega shot glances around her before running with her unnatural speed. Following Anton to the dump. Fay evaded bins, running with speed and grace. Landing with ease as she jumped over the last set of bins and found Anton against the wall. Crying. Fay trotted over to her, but standing at a safe distance away. Being a somewhat recent member of the pack, and taking charge of omega duties after Anton had been being demoted probably didn't sit well with Anton. For the moment, Fay let silence fill the air between them. Looking at her and then to the sky. Deep breath.

"It's hard to lose a friend." Fayth spoke. "I know the feeling all too well."