-_*(Annabelle's P.O.V.)*_-

Boom!

Another section of wall collapsed inwards when a giant circular stone smashed into it. Many creatures disappeared under the humongous orb, instantly ripping their souls away from their bodies. A scream ripped out across the dining hall, shattering the ears and hearts of everyone in the vicinity. The door shook as the people behind it fought harder and harder to break through it. The wails of children and widows seared themselves into my memory. Tears poured from my eyes while screams ripped from my throat. With another boom, an entire wall fell through and captured many innocents underneath it.

A cloud of dust poured over everyone in the room when the door holding back the soldiers collapsed under their strikes. Hazardous debris rocketed into the room, many people crying out as they were struck. The dust seeped into my throat and down into my lungs while burning my eyes terribly. Loud, racking coughs poured from my throat violently while innocents fled in terror. A cool wind stunned me momentarily before I realized that it wasn't a breeze at all. Once again the cool drift passed through me, just as another screaming faun did.

They are running right through me...

In my dazed confusion, I failed to notice the soldiers adorned in ugly masks and black armor pour into the room. Many of the innocent citizens scrambled to the edge of the room hugging each other, some jumped out of the holes in the wall and plummeted to their deaths, while the rest aimed their bows at the invading soldiers. 'Oh no...' The invaders got into position and readied their crossbows. Dread, fear, and panic surged up through my throat as the commander gave the order to fire. My knees hit the floor painfully as the scream came roaring from my mouth. Just as my scream began, someone in one of the horrible masks ran up to me and gripped my arm tightly. Shock washed over me as he jerked me to my feet. So far, he had been the only one who could see me and touch me. It wasn't a very good thing for me, though. When his fingers laced onto my arm, they painfully tightened. The force behind the fingers are enough to bruise me.

Low grumbling began to pour from under his mask. As if he were chanting something. Then to my utter horror, he reached up to his mask and removed it. Another scream tore from me when Peter's face was unveiled from under the mask. A giant smirk deformed his features while his eyes shined black with dark red triskelions in the middle. Even though he looked entirely different, I could recognize the facial structure anywhere. In one terrible second his mouth grew into a smile, his teeth bloody and pointed. In that moment, I was ready to faint. But, 'Peter' had other plans. Instead of releasing me, he jerked me forward and wound an arm around my shoulder, locking me in place. I now faced the invaders. Their crossbows were aimed at all the innocent civilians behind me. The commander brought his arm down, signaling the beginning of the onslaught of arrows.

"NO! STOP!" My back left the bed as I hunched over and fisted my hair while screams elicited from my throat..

"Mum!" Susan yelled before her footsteps retreated out the door. "MUM!"

Tears drifted down my cheeks at an incredibly fast pace just as the sweat began to slip down the side of my face. The screams kept leaving my mouth while my grip tightened on my red locks. The blanket around my waist began to feel like a cage. It felt as if was entrapping me within its binding heat. Frustration and terror grew within me as I started screaming louder and thrashing around. It just wouldn't let go, the blanket that is, it was so unbelievably hot now. Even the air in my lungs felt as if it were fire. My bottom hit the hardwood floor with a thud when my thrashing caused me to slip off the bed. By now, Lucy was standing over me looking extremely terrified, and a few pairs of footsteps were pounding down the hall. The crossbows are aimed directly at me, as if they had been seared into my mind. I know they aren't real, but they are only bringing back the memory of my nightmare.

A strong pair of hands gripped my shoulders as I screamed in terror. The screams of horror that were tearing through my vocal cords were cut short when a hand clasped over my mouth and effectively silenced me. A tremor ran throughout my body before I tensed up completely. Tears are still drifting through my tightly shut eyes, something that I can't stop even if I wanted to. The hand soon left my mouth before it trailed down my shoulder soothingly. A nice warmth radiated from her hand, bringing a great amount of comfort to me. The warmth was a very drastic change from the chilling wind that had passed through me in the dream. A small whimper fell from my lips, signalling the end of my tensed posture.

"Shh, darling, it's okay." A woman spoke gently to me, pulling me into her arms. "You're okay, Annabelle. It wasn't real."

But, it felt so real...

When I opened my eyes, my eyes were greeted with the sight of Susan standing off to the wall hugging Lucy tightly and Peter and Edmund standing in the doorway. The woman who had her arms around me could have only been their mother, Helen. Tears are blurring my vision terribly, but it's easy to see the slight annoyance on everyone's face. My face turned scarlet at the thought, though I just continued to cry into Helen's shoulder. Of course they are annoyed, this is the third time this week that I've awoken them from the presence of sleep with my night terrors.

Guilt bubbled within my stomach like a cauldron. Today is our first day going back to school. For a second I opened my eyes to glance at the clock. Four thirty. Great.

In only a few hours time, we would all be due to board the train that would transport us to our respectful schools. The boys would be dropped off at a train station near Trotman's School in Bunhill Row. Then, Lucy, Susan, and I would be taken directly to Saint Finbar's. Both were very nice schools, the extensive tours we had confirmed that much. But, it was the separation that would be hard on me. Technically we hadn't been really seperated in a year. When you add the years we spent in Narnia...we hadn't been too far from each other for thirteen years. To add-on to the stress of leaving each other for our first day of school, I just had to wake everyone before the sun even had time to rise. I am such a horrible pers-

"Here, mum, let me." Peter spoke after I hadn't stopped my sobbing.

Unfortunately for him, when I opened my eyes to look at him, Peter's face deformed and transformed into the one I had seen in my dreams. The instant his hand laid upon my shoulder, my screams started back up. When his hand fell upon my shoulder, his entire face morphed back into the one that I recognized from my dreams. Blood stained the tips of teeth and his eyes were coated in a murky black. The lines of concern on his face shifted into the line of a frown brought on by a glare. The visual before me was not that of the Peter Pevensie that I knew. It never could be. By chance, when he bent forward over me, his necklace fell out of his night-shirt. The pendant caused his face to morph back into his caring one in just a moments time and he backed away from me. This could have only been because the pendant on his necklace was his wedding ring, the wedding ring whose match was on my own finger. Helen let out a soft sigh before she pushed my bangs back from my face and pressed a kiss to my forehead. The cool temperature of her lips seemed to spread throughout my body, effectively soothing my wired nerves.

Tremors ran through my body like an after shock as I timidly unwound my hands from her wrists and allowed them to fall limply at my sides. I looked up weakly to the others. Apologies ran through my eyes, but could not escape my raw throat. A burst of pain began in my head and trailed down to my wrist. The wrist. The one that bared the triskelion mark just last year. Ever since I 'died' in Narnia, I hadn't seen the triskelion. In my conscious state of mind, at least. With every night terror came the triskelion being burning into my memory. Helen placed a light kiss on my cheek before she stood and aided me into an upwards position as well.

Like a mother to her own child, Helen wound a warm arm around my shoulder and held me close. Shaky breaths passed my lips as it was impossible to breathe through my now stuffy nose. The wounded expression that once covered my face fled quickly and was replaced with a blank one.

"I'm s-sorry I woke you all..." I whispered hoarsely.

"It's alright, dear." Helen patted my shoulder affectionately. "The rest of you should go back to bed, get a few more hours."

Guilt twanged in my heart at her words. Susan slowly led the obviously tired Lucy back to her bed before going to hers. Edmund left after a moment. The moment's hesitation was only given because he stood completely disoriented. Even though he loved me as much as you could love a sister, Edmund valued his precious sleep above all else.

"Are you going to be okay?" Peter asked me timidly.

"She'll be fine, Peter. I'll take her downstairs and get her calmed down." Helen waved Peter off. "Nothing to worry about, love."

The answer proved to be satisfying enough, as Peter soon exited the room and trotted down hallway. Once everything fell into silence, my matron gave a sigh, but smiled and squeezed my shoulders reassuringly. Words did not pass between us, they didnt need to. In my time here, with my common night terrors, Helen has put together a nice aftercare routine for after I have woken. Though, this night's horror fueled nightmare was very more intense than the others before, I feel as if the usual agenda will successfully soothe the nerves that have still yet to calm. The nurturing hand left my shoulder and slid down to grip my hand softly. Sliding her thumb comfortingly over the back of my hand subconsciously, Helen began to lead me from the room and into the hallway.

Once we made it downstairs and in the kitchen, she guided me to take a seat on one of the stools that stood before the island. The cool metal of the seat caused a shiver to run up my spine and goosebumps to break out over my arms. A sweet aroma floated by, more than likely from the apple pie that Helen had baked for yesterday's desert. The sweet smell invaded my mind and slowly brought sadness to my heart. My eyes flickered to the small portrait on the wall. A small home in the middle of a field had been fitted inside a frame, and it only reminded me of home.

A clink resonated through the comfortable silence in the room as Helen sat a glass down on the chilly counter. Wasting no time, she turned the heat on the stove, put a pot on the burner, and moved towards the refrigerator. Soft hums spilled through her throat as she worked. In its entirety, the room was very calming. With the scent of apple pie wafting around, the chilled metal of the stool beneath me, the smooth counter under my arms, the soft crackling of the flame on the stove, and the hums, everything felt home-y and relaxing. A small warmth spread at my diaphragm as I smiled lovingly around the home that I had come to know so well.

"What did you dream about this time, Anna?" Helen spoke absent-mindedly as she poured milk into the pot.

I sighed and took the cup in my hand. Small bumps lined the outside, a decoration on the glass. My fingers ran over them trying prevent my nerves from going haywire again. Being asked about a traumatizing event is nearly as worse as experiencing it. The logic behind that is at most confusing. By being asked about the event that brought you such terror and trauma, you are forced to relive it again through a retelling. But, it's something that I put up with every time that I have these horrid dreams. Therefore, I'm fairly accustomed to it.

I glanced uneasily up at Helen, who was now pouring some honey into the heating milk. Taking in a deep breath, I prepared myself to lie.

"I was in the middle of a raid, an army raid, ya know." I lied smoothly. "N-no one I knew was even there. They were all strangers, but I felt like I had to protect them. But, the soldiers...the s-soldiers came in and began shooting... It was horrible..."

It was somewhat the truth. A very long-shot from the truth, but the truth in some sense. There was an army, and they were raiding. I didn't know the people, though I knew they were Narnians. And the soldiers did begin shooting. Of course, I did leave out the bit where her demonized son took me in his arms and forced me to witness the massacre of my people. Yeah, I just left out that unimportant part.

Helen didn't know a thing about Narnia or our time there. In fact, the only person we decided to tell was my grandfather. Papa had listened to us, not making a sound or interjection as we told the tale. Once we finished telling him of Aslan and the terrible White Witch who had taken my life, he had looked to us with tears in his eyes. At first, I had thought that something was terribly wrong. But, when the large smile sprouted on his face, those thoughts were swept away.

It turns out, my grandfather knew exactly what we were talking about when we told him about the land called Narnia.

He had once visited Narnia too, with my somewhat aunt Polly.

"That is horrible, Annabelle..." Helen poured the sweet mixture from the pot into my cup. "You have all the right to be upset." Helen soothed me in a comforting manner.

Her warm hands silently urged me to drink the mixture she had prepared me. Milk and honey, a natural favorite of mine. Unfortunately, the sweet liquid couldn't prevent me from falling back into the past. The events that led to these troublesome nightmares that wake up the Pevensies every night couldn't have been any more happier.

After Papa had learned of our time in Narnia and my marriage to Peter, that was very hard to get him to accept, he had worried about the fact that the Pevensies couldn't stay at our home forever. Alas, when the air raids began to slow, they would have to go. Their mother wouldn't keep them away for longer than necessary, it just wasn't possible. So, while we were happily oblivious to that fact as we played in the gardens, Papa planned out a way to keep us together and me happy. Papa loves me with all he has, that's why he arranged this.

While the Pevensies and I spent our remaining days together running throughout the gardens (and trying unsuccessfully to get back to Narnia through the wardrobe), Papa wrote to Helen. Through his writing, he asked if Helen would house me until the age of eighteen so I may attend a regular school and gain life experience/skills. Of course, he didn't expect her to add just another burden to her uncomfortable living arrangement. Army wives aren't exact swimming in income, so he offered to pay for everything. Everything that I would need, that is. Sleeping arrangements, clothes, school supplies, he added to the food budget, and he even promised to pay a third of the normal household bills. After a good explanation, Papa had Helen convinced.

Of course, I still see Papa. Very often in fact. It was decided between the two adults that I and the Pevensies would return to the manor for a month and a half every summer, then we would spend a weekend there each month. Costly, yes. But, it was worth it. The time that I spent at Papa's is the only time that I can shift. Which, if I don't on a regular basis, I will involuntarily. I discovered that information when I was taking a bath one day, only to come out of the tub with my fur soaking.

Helen is a great caretaker, though. The patience of a nun, I tell you. Why, if it were anyone else, I'm sure that I'd be out on the streets by now.

"You should finish drinking that, then go take a nice bath. You still have a few hours to squeeze on in." She patted my shoulder affectionately. "Nightmares can't put of school, darling."

A groan of dissatisfaction erupted from me as Helen chuckled softly.

"Are you going to tell me what you dreamed about, now?" Peter spoke loudly over the noise in the train station.

The throng of students shoving past and moving around jostled me. Though their individual voices were at a normal level, together they came together to create an abundant roar. Normally, the extreme volume would annoy me, but after living in London for almost a year, I'm essentially used to the noise. Trying to yell over people, though, is something it will probably take a lot longer for me to become accustomed to. I always was described as quiet...

Nevertheless, a smile still stayed stuck on my face. At least, until Peter had asked the question about the dream. Just as the words were voiced, the smile slipped from my face. A sudden feeling of alertness filled me as small flashbacks of the terrifying dream seeped back into my mind. The screaming demons of the nightmares were shaken loose from my mind with a small, nearly non-existent shake of my head. Hours later, it was much easier to push the horrors of my terrible dreamscape out of my mind. Especially with the added safety and security I felt around my somewhat-family. Indeed, the comforting hand that Peter slid slowly back and forth across my lower back was very assuring.

"Belle, plea-" I cut him off before he could continue.

"It was about Narnia, Peter." A silence fell between us. "Cair Paravel...it was being attacked by humans. It felt so real, I've never had dreams so vivid."

I decided not to mention to Peter that he, albeit a twisted version of himself, had too been in my nightmare. It would have been a bit rude, I'm sure, to tell him that a demonic version of himself had forced me to watch the oncoming barrage of arrows fly towards and past my face.

"I wonder why you've dreamed about Narnia so much..." Peter spoke, more to himself than me.

I opened my mouth to respond, but a small, cheery voice had already beaten me to it. As her voice rang out as loud as it could in the raucous train station, Lucy's head continuously popped up from the sea of students before disappearing back within it while calling our names. A smile replaced my frown instantly as my technical sister-in-law parted the crowd to reach Peter and I. Eventually, she made it out of the sea of reds and blues and jumped to fill the once non-existant space between us. With a small, satisfied sigh, Lucy sank back against the wall behind the three of us and gave Peter a devious smile.

"Susan is talking to a boy." Lucy said in a matter-of-factly, yet gossipy tone. "I saw her, he was wearing a Hendon House uniform."

Her older brother glanced down at her quickly before he gave me a swift "this-conversation-isn't-over" look. Then he proceeded to give a very bemused look to Lucy. The brother-sister bond between the two was the strongest I had ever seen. And, with being exposed to the social world for almost a year now, I think I have the knowledge/experience to actually back that statement up.

It actually isn't surprising that the two grew a lot closer in Narnia, we had, and I'm not even a direct relative to Lucy and the lot. Our years of royalty had done a lot to improve everyone's relationships. Of course it would, we were, and are, a family.

"Oh is she now?" Peter asked in a playful tone. "Perhaps I'll have to go have a 'talk' with this boy, huh?"

Lucy giggled mischievously. While her attention was focused on Peter, I swiped the hat off of her brunette hair and placed it on my own head. Through her laughter, it actually took her a moment to realize that her accessory was missing. In a panic she patted her head before twisting around to check if her hat had fallen off the back of her head.

Just as she began to look down, her eyes caught sight of her missing item resting on top of my curly head.

"Hey! Giv-"

"Hm, I don't know Peter." I spoke while inspecting the scuffs on my shoes for a moment, before smiling at the pair from under the brim of the hat. "You and I did start courting at that her age."

"But we were also Kings and Queens of a magical realm." Peter guffawed.

With a small laugh, I replied. "I suppose that's ri- oof!"

Poor Lucy. The force that pushed me forward also caused my shoulder (although, thankfully, not as bony as year ago) to collide with the bridge of the young girl's nose. An instant groan of pain erupted from her as her hand flew to apply pressure to the now sore area. When a small snicker resonated from behind me, no doubt from the person who bumped me, a small snarl ripped through my teeth. Thankfully, it couldn't be heard over the noise.

By the time I had turned around to glare down the person who would consider knocking into me, Peter had flanked my left side and beat me to it. The glare on his face was hateful, but mine must have been even worse. Not to pull the "I'm-a-girl" card (I couldn't exactly pull that card fighting in a war with a terrible witch, now could I?), but it is very impolite to bump into a girl very forcefully, then snicker about it without apologizing. Even if they did apologize, they shouldn't be snickering about it!

"Oi, Peter! You better tell your little girlfriend to watch who she's knocking into."

The massive prat in front of me sneered at the three of us. The brutish boy was flanked by two, another neanderthal and a girl around my age. Glancing down at all of their elbows quickly gave sight to who had actually done the bumping. The sharp pain in my lower back could have only been a result from the bony elbows of the girl digging into it. If I really wanted to go into detail, I could probably add onto how utterly mean this girl looked. She had her hair pulled back into a very tight ponytail, not a strand out of place. It actually gave her the illusion of a large/high forehead, which reminded me instantly of the women in the Renaissance who plucked their hair lines.

She wore a standard Saint Finbar's uniform, like Lucy and I. But, she wore hers with such sophistication, such polish that it made her seem like she thought herself above those who did not wear the uniform. It even seemed to make us seem unworthy of the outfit. The expression she wore didn't help either. A nasty smirk tugged the corner of her lips up as she looked at Lucy, Peter, and I with cruel satisfaction. Her intentions dawned on me in just a moment of looking at her. The injustice of what she wanted to start caused my stomach to drop and a frown to grow on my face. The curse of knowledge, I tell you. That blasted lion blood in my veins allowed me to make connections faster than most people. And no, that is not an advantage. It's incredibly annoying at times!

"Oh, what are you going on about?" I spoke before I even thought about it. "She bumped me!"

Apparently, my effort to not be ridiculed shown as the utmost defiance in their eyes. Surely in the lives, defiance was not something they're used to. It was clear from the quick look of shock that passed across their faces. Now, the three glared right back at us.

"Oh really?" The leader sneered at me before looking back to Peter. "You'd better teach your bird here to watch who she's talking to. Before someone else does it for you."

Did he just threaten me?!

"Lu, go play with your friends." I spoke quietly as I balled my hands up into fists in an effort to hide my unsheathing claws.

Following my orders with wide eyes, Lucy ran off, presumably towards the entrance to the station. It wouldn't have been very good for Lucy to witness her brother and somewhat-sister get into a nasty argument. Throughout our years in Narnia, I always attempted to provide a sense of positivity for Lucy. Now that we were back in the unharmonious world we call Earth, the negativity was everywhere, and there is essentially no chance of protecting the nine-year old from it. Unfortunately.

"Come off it, Bradley." Peter said in a deadly stern tone.

"Not until that bird apologizes for bumping into my girlfriend." Bradley said smugly.

The girl in question gave a small 'hmph' of satisfaction as she looked at me awaiting an apology. Anger surged through me instantly, and I could even feel it radiating from Peter. Being showered with respect as kings and queens for nearly thirteen years made it very hard to become accustomed to being treated as simple children again. Little to no respect from adults, and absolutely zero from our fellow peers. It's all very hard to adjust too, especially for Peter. No one really ever treated the High King of Narnia like a child. But, they never treated me like a child either.

"Why should I apologize, you big brute?!" I nearly shouted at him. "Your little girlfriend bumped me!"

Obviously, I had most definitely said the wrong thing. There's a reason Susan was the wise queen, I tell you. Thinking before speaking is not a practice that I contribute to. No, I am that idiotic girl who always opens her gob before her poor underused mind can even convince her giant gob to stay quiet. That's why I always get in trouble, now.

Bradley and his crone took a few threatening steps forward. He now stood a mere foot away from Peter and I. Silence seemed to fall across the station. A blush attempted to redden my face, but the angered expression I held probably made it seem like I was just fuming. Which, I am. The br-Bradley was shorter than Peter, so he and his neanderthal friend tried to make it seem as if they were bigger by advancing upon us with a threatening aura. It was almost comical. Of course, they didn't (couldn't) understand why I would laugh at them attempting to threaten me.

I've faced dwarves more terrifying than them, for crying out loud!

"Make her apologize, Pete." Bradley spat out angrily before glaring at me. "Or I will."

"I'd like to see you try- oh!" Just before I could finish my shout, the action had already unfolded itself before me.

It was blatantly clear that the major threat was enough to tip Peter over the edge of fury, for as soon as I got out my "try" Peter's fist had been sent hurtling at the degenerate's face.

And with that single blow, everything fell into chaos.

The students around us immediately cleared out a small circle for the fight to continue. Now, their extrordinarily loud voices had came together to a fine roar of "Fight!" and shouts of the sorts. Bradley took a step back, towards the wall and held his jaw, which is where Peter had placed a fine punch. This stunning didn't last long, unfortunately.

Letting out a purely animalistic roar, the savage ran forward and brought my boyfriend to the floor. Instincts kicked in as I ran forward to aid my battle partner. A hand clasped tightly on my forearm before I could get to Peter.

"Where do you think you're going, love?" Bradley's crone laughed.

And he continued laughing as he shoved me backwards and straight into Bradley's girlfriend. My day just can't get any worse, can it? After tossing me backwards like rubbish, the goon dove right into the fight. Which, made the whole thing completely unfair. Two against one? We've done it before, but now Peter doesn't have his sword or any weapon besides his fist. He was trained to perfection with mêlée weapons, not without.

"Get off him!" I screamed before getting being pulled back again.

What is with people and putting their hands on me today? It's driving me bonkers, I tell you!

Anger bubbled up inside me like a potion withing a cauldron. The hand that had gripped my shoulder was now clasped within my own. The anger (which I found that my temper had become very short ever since I became a lioness) that burned a flame that licked my insides brought my fingernails to a sharp point that soon grew into claws. If I wasn't careful, I could burst into a lion at any second. The person holding me seethed in pain and attempted to draw their hand back. Upon following my arm to the face of the person who held me back, I saw it was Bradley's spoilt little girlfriend.

"Look what you've done! You should have apologized you little-"

The girl didn't finish her insult, as her insult was thrown at me in a physical form. Her body barreled against me, instantly causing my back to connect with the floor. A growl rumbled low within me, a sure sign that my conscious really wanted to let my lion form burst out. It would take a lot to defend myself and make sure that I didn't shift in front of everyone.

In my moments of thinking, the girl jumped on top of me and swiped a palm across my face. The impact stung very momentarily. Thankfully, pain and injury were diminished with the presence of a lioness in your body. In retaliation, I gripped her shoulders with excessive force and used my left leg to flip us to the right. With her under me, and myself in the advantage. She gave a short yelp when I dug her shoulder blades into the ground when she tried to get back up.

What followed was a screaming match between the both of us. She screamed at me, and I screamed at her. Then, I finally had enough of just shoving her shoulders into the tile beneath us. In a quick fluid motion, I brought my hand up and struck her across her snooty little face. This elicited a scream from her, because my claws had been out. How could I have forgotten!? The crimson flowed from the four fresh wounds that stretched across her cheek. They weren't deep, thank goodness. Her hand flew to her face and cupped the wound before she threw a punch.

The pain stunned me, and sent me hurdling off her. Right into the oncoming path of feet stampeding towards the other fight. Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to see whether or not help had come, because just as I looked up, my jaw suffered another furious blow.

"Annabelle!?" Susan's groan caught my ears and momentarily distracted me, allowing yet another fist to land on my face.

A snarl ripped through my teeth this time, this time it was heard by my opponent. Saucers replaced her eyes as she staggered backwards on knees. With disbelief in her eyes she stood up quickly, only for me to follow her instantly. With renewed viciousness (that didn't even feel like my own) I struck my fist out and caught her uninjured cheek bone. While she yelped and regained her composure, I took a second to glance over at Peter's fight.

The feet had, thankfully, belonged to Edmund. But now, there were three of them. Three! Is there no honor in this fight?! Well, you are a goddess fighting a mere girl, Annabelle. Not a lot of honor in that, is there? Right now, I actually couldn't make myself care about that miniscule fact. With a rather forceful shove, I sent the girl backwards into the wall.

Now, my attention was focused on the two neanderthals holding my boyfriend/husband down to prepare to give him a good kick to the stomach. That kick landed square in Peter's solar plexus, unfortunately. But, as swift as my feet carried me, I had tackled the kicker to the floor. My fist landed on his nose with a small crunch. This dazed him greatly, allowing me to properly straddle his hips, leaving him unable to move. I brought my fist up again, only to hear a whistle blow near us.

Oh great, the officials are here. Their arrival didn't delay my fist, however. The uniforms were closing in on us, but I threw as many punches as I possibly could before they lifted me off him.

The crowd dissipated in an instant, and then two hands fitted under my arms and lifted me away from the boy. The angry uniform sat me on my feet heavily and glared at me angrily. Especially when I tried to get past him and back to my 'victim'.

"You need to act like a lady, and not some hoodlum!" He shouted at me.

Ignoring the angry uniform, I threw a glance over to Peter. The fire of anger was still alight in his eyes, but the set jaw and thin-lipped angered look on his face made me nearly smile widely, for there was also a hint of enjoyment in his eyes. We both felt the same way about this whole thing, we hate that we're treated like scum here, but it also felt really good to get in a fight again. A smile lit up my face, before the uniform holding me began to bark at me angrily.

_-Welcome back, my lovelies.-_