[No matter how many times Wendy reviews files and histories with a fine-toothed comb, she reaches the same conclusion in the end: no one deserves that torture. Not a single person. On the survivor side of things at least. Her sympathy for killers runs much too thin nowadays.
Wendy has no dossier on August, only knows the barest of minimums about the man, but as far as she’s concerned - he wouldn’t deserve to be stuck in the endless cycle of cat-and-mouse torture games either. Not after all the selfless kindness he’s shown towards her in the short time they’ve known each other.
She doesn’t even notice he was still holding her hand until it’s gone. Its absence is palatable. Worry on her face, she looks to him and nods in understanding. Her fingers flex, and she’s wringing her hands out of nerves as she stays behind.
She does take a step or two. They’re just hesitant ones. She wants to listen but doesn’t want to leave him alone. As long as he’s in her sight…
Her attention goes towards the layout of the room, the items inside with them. Up until he’s disposing of another zombie - this time with his hands instead of firearms. She doesn’t want to look - not at first - and simply turns her head, choosing to stare at the nearby statue, the paintings on the walls, back to the statue. The sounds are bad enough on their own. She does sneak a glance before the thing drops to the floor, brain utterly destroyed. And she makes a face, borderline disgusted.
Going to be obedient and stay put until told otherwise, still surveying their surroundings with occasional glances around.]
no subject
Wendy has no dossier on August, only knows the barest of minimums about the man, but as far as she’s concerned - he wouldn’t deserve to be stuck in the endless cycle of cat-and-mouse torture games either. Not after all the selfless kindness he’s shown towards her in the short time they’ve known each other.
She doesn’t even notice he was still holding her hand until it’s gone. Its absence is palatable. Worry on her face, she looks to him and nods in understanding. Her fingers flex, and she’s wringing her hands out of nerves as she stays behind.
She does take a step or two. They’re just hesitant ones. She wants to listen but doesn’t want to leave him alone. As long as he’s in her sight…
Her attention goes towards the layout of the room, the items inside with them. Up until he’s disposing of another zombie - this time with his hands instead of firearms. She doesn’t want to look - not at first - and simply turns her head, choosing to stare at the nearby statue, the paintings on the walls, back to the statue. The sounds are bad enough on their own. She does sneak a glance before the thing drops to the floor, brain utterly destroyed. And she makes a face, borderline disgusted.
Going to be obedient and stay put until told otherwise, still surveying their surroundings with occasional glances around.]