[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 375px;][justify]Yharnam had never been this quiet. Even during the hunts, you could hear the hunt if you pressed an ear to your door and always hear screaming. After every truly went to shit, it seemed oddly peaceful.
Streets were deserted bar for the monsters and crazed men and women that walked the streets. Anima supposed that wasn't really quiet, but most were quiet until they spotted a hunter and shouted or screeching or whatever it was they did.
So she'd blame her presence for any noise made. When she was just alone, walking, there was only the sound of her footsteps. And that was the majority of her time, people were all too scare in Yharnam now. Sane people that conversations could be held with that is.
Central Yharnam, once alive with normal everyday people, was near dead. She'd like it more if the incense was gone, hated it ever since she was little. Warded off beasts and masked the smell of blood because her hometown always snelled of blood, no matter the conditions.
This had to be the gods playing a game of how shitty they could make a shithole surely. If not, Annie would love to know why there was a plague and hunts. But the hunt had given her one thing; a job.
Hunt and kill beasts, rinse and repeat. Blow your finger off in the process as well as set fire to your hair? Not so much. But, she was most vitally alive and awake in Yharnam. Which was a small miracle in her opinion. Not that it counted for much.
If you dangled your legs off a drop to the aqueduct, it was kind of amusing? Never let you do that when people was around, did they? And that's what she found herself doing as a break.
Monotonous hunting did become a bit boring, like dying.
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[size=7pt][color=transparent]★ - WE PICK OURSELVES UNDONE - ★[/size]