Word Count: 279 (I know it's short...)
She stalks her prey, never once betraying her location or giving any indication that she is hunting him. As he slips from view into an alley, she pulls the holly stake from her back pocket. Its familiar weight and texture make her heart begin to pound; her instincts take complete control. She easily catches up with his unhurried pace, and one powerful kick brings him crashing to the ground. Within seconds, his dusty remains join the garbage and grime that cover all surfaces of the tiny alley.
She turns, and continues along her original route. Her chocolate brown hair moves slightly in the light wind, and she shivers, pulling her jacket tighter around her body. The streetlights all seem to dim as she treads beneath them, but the night is her haven, and she doesn’t mind. Utterly alone, she alters her path, leading herself through the fallen leaves in a desperate attempt to fill the leaden silence.
It isn’t until she reaches the corner that she looks up suddenly and is unsure of which way to turn. To the right, she can sense two or three vampires in the distance, and she knows it is her duty to dispose of them. To the left, she feels the warm pull of home, and along with it comes the subtle longing for someone to pass the night with.
But before she can decide between sacred calling and much needed comfort, the embodiment of happiness emerges out of the darkness. It walks lightly over the pavement toward her, bringing a shimmer of joy back into the cold night. With a shy smile, Buffy gently slips her hand into Faith’s.
She chooses left.