Jemma - The Beach
@Leaves @Zamokra41
At first, he was angry. She supposed she could not blame him, as her actions had been rash, unexpected, and unexplained. Yet, in that moment, there was no time to dwell on such things. The woman's doe-eyes, the same shade as the ocean beyond, swirled with a dark storm of panic. But then his anger cooled, and though his were still narrowed as they bore into hers, she noted his features relaxing. The faintest hints of concern laced his tone as he spoke again. Gone was the cocky, perverted party boy from only moments before, and in his place stood someone who she would be more willing to confide in. Maybe.
"I'm not sure you'd believe me," she countered, frowning deeply. The wrestler echoed the beast-man's concern, inquiring about the blonde's health. She went to respond, but was interrupted by his declaration. He was going to check on the woman. He was running back into the fray. No. But her cry of disapproval died on her lips as the man scooted away, losing himself in wave of people who immediately fanned away from the wrecked, sparking DJ table. From the woman who lay there, unmoving. From the death. And as her gaze followed the wrestler's departure, she realized that there were far more pressing matters to attend to.
Jemma inhaled deeply, held it, and blew it out. A moment of clarity, or at least, the best she could manage. Though her small frame still trembled like the long, palm leaves above her head, she turned back to the horned stranger. "Everyone is heading for the path," she deduced in a voice that sounded foreign to her own ears. But with the thick foliage, and wooden fencing, the partygoers would never be able to fit. There would be carnage at the same spot where the path bottle-necked. In a tumble of words, she hurriedly informed her partner of this fact. "We need to find another way."