[Moosh da Outlaw]

I've decided to carry on writing anyway, for anyone who enjoys it. C:

CHAPTER 2

It was late, and every outlaw in the camp was asleep- minus one, of course. Charlotte never did pay attention to the time, anyhow.

She bit her bottom lip and sat down on the ground, exhausted from her close combat practice. With long, slender fingers the female steef pulled a leather glove off her left hand, examining the deep cuts and holes bore within them. She gripped a large wooden splinter thrust deep into her palm and yanked it free, almost crying out with pain.

One down, many more to go, she thought angrily as she continued pulling bloodied splinters from her flesh. This training better be worth it.
Her target had been a tall strip of wood she had found in the canyon by the Mongo River. She spent the entire evening and most of the night tearing at it with her teeth and claws as though it were an enemy. It had been a big mistake, as now she had splinters in her hands and gums.

Charlotte pulled the final wedge of wood from one of her fingers and slipped her glove back on, cursing as the leather touched her open wounds. Then she stood and trudged through the canyon and towards the outlaw camp- her home.

Charlotte flexed her fingers painfully as she walked, her eyes occasionally traveling over to her reflection in passing puddles. She wore the same clothes every day; khaki pants with dozens of pockets, an olive green tank top with a faded wine-red 'throw' poncho over her sholders and a pair of plated steel boots for extra kicking power.

Charlotte approached the camp (it was cleverly hidden in an abandoned gold mine, behind some bushes) she felt a chill run down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She turned slowly, spotting a tall shape moving through the forest. It didn't appear to see her yet. Charlotte quickly entered the camp without looking back. Somehow she knew that something big would happen soon; but what it was, she didn't know.