Shifters

Dire News

Joana burst through the doorway unannounced, abruptly interrupting what seemed to be a heated conversation between Shaw and Hank. The tension of their unknown argument washed over her as the two stared menacingly at each other. Shaw, who was hovering angrily over the finely carved table, quickly acclimated to her surprise entrance, greeting her with an expectant look in his eyes. Hank, who also appeared to be unnaturally emotional, acknowledged her presence with a simple nod as Joana closed the door behind her before taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. 

 "Well?" Shaw questioned impatiently, "Did you find any traces of our people?"

Joana sat quietly, studying the two men as she pondered how best to answer his question. From her knowledge, both Shaw and Hank had never before engaged in such an unsightly manner. 

'Although unlikely, was it possible that Hank had failed his assignment?' she thought, staring at the burly man closely. 

As if to confirm her suspicions, Hank nodded at her once more before returning his gaze to their impatient leader. 

"Don't tell me," he seethed, pounding the table with a fist, "you also have nothing to show!"

Deciding it was best to tell the truth rather than break the news to him slowly, Joana began her account, not daring to spare a single detail. On reaching the part of the graphic photo stuck to the wall, both Hank and Shaw exchanged looks of disbelief. Noting their expressions, Joana's hands strayed to her waist as she extracted the crinkled picture from the storage bag. Raising the tear-stained photo to her lips, Joana blew gently on its surface, immediately causing the image to expand behind her until it was visible to all. Shaw, who was previously standing, slumped into a nearby chair as Celine's bloodied physique entered his sights. Hank's fists trembled at his sides as he grimly witnessed his tortured comrades through glassy eyes. Joana lowered her head silently, unable to produce any tears of her own after days of mourning.

Amidst their sorrowful expressions, a soft knock followed by a high pitched female voice asking permission for entry, came at the other side of the door. 

"Take-Take that down," Shaw ordered hoarsely, averting his eyes from the enlarged image. 

Complying, Joana snapped her fingers, instantly reforming the photo to its original size, guiding it into Shaw's grasp as it folded midair. 

Holding the photo gingerly, Shaw cleared his throat before saying, "Come in."

Receiving permission, a short, blonde, young woman pushed the large door open slightly, poking a head through, sheepishly surveying the room.

"You again!" Shaw said in annoyance, authority returning to his voice, "I already said I'm not in the mood to see anyone right now. If the beggar at the gate cannot accept this then have him leave!"

"What's this all about?" Joana asked, confused by the conversation. 

Hank, who also appeared to be perplexed by the unknown development, turned to Shaw for an explanation.  

"A few hours ago, a man showed up at the gate claiming to have delicate information" Shaw began, "When the guards asked him the particulars, the man went on to say that it was for my ears only. Since then he's refused to leave until I give him an audience."

"Why don't you?" Joana questioned.

"Does seem better to get it over with," Hank agreed. 

"Does it?" Shaw asked sarcastically, "If I were to cave now, how long would it take until every lunatic comes lining up outside our city gates claiming they have important information in an attempt to breach our walls? We'd end up like Lore in no time if that were to happen."