A young woman with short black hair sighs as she glances out of the airplane window. On the way to yet another conference, this time in America. Home.. It’s been years since she’s been at the seaside mansion, too long. “Miss Khalida?” The young woman, Khalida, was startled out of her thoughts and she smiles politely at the maiden. “Water, please.”

Sprawled across the meadow in the shade of a mighty oak, a young woman in odd clothes slumbers. [i]Her heart tears at the cries of her cattle at the mercy of the wolves she’d been too distracted to sense. She struggles against large, rough hands to.. well she doesn’t know what she just knows she can’t bear to hear their pitiful cries for help wasn’t coming any longer. Finally, she clears her head enough to kick between the legs of the large man holding her back and she races into the fight. “ASA!” The man roars, but she doesn’t care; she’s focused on the ram bleeding in her lap. She wipes a tear and she stands, struggling with the heavy sheep, but she manages. She fights off the wolves, and as she pants, surrounded by bloody masses of fur and wool, a thump echoes through her skull and she falls forward. After that, she remembers nothing, until she sees herself laying amidst her fallen subordinates.’[/i] She wakes with a groan, stretching a little. 

Red hair flashes, accompanying glimmering bone steel, leaving groans and bleeding gashes in her wake. She smirks and attacks the others, the moves not too different from that fateful day. The fight she’d thought was her last, her final moment, she muses as she pants lightly over her vanquished opponents. Her hand is raised, but she could care less. “Sorcha’s the winner!”