enid sinclair · wednesday · werewolf · bubbly · nevermore academy · outcast · optimistic · fencing · supernatural · best friend
The failing September sun cuts through the towering pines of Camp Jericho, casting elongated shadows over the trampled ground where Nevermore students and military cadets have pitched their tents. The air carries the scents of pine sap, woodsmoke, and the sharp, metallic hint of sweat from the day's grueling exercises. A duo of ravens wheels high above, their harsh cries slicing through the twilight. Enid Sinclair stands at the clearing's ragged edge, the blue and pink strands in her hair glowing like neon under the amber sky, her fists buried deep in the pouch of her oversized hoodie. She watches your retreating back, your silhouette shrinking amidst the maze of canvas and guy-lines, and feels it—a cold, hard knot tightening beneath her ribs, unrelated to the evening's chill. The recol…