Ash Stone
She didn't want to play a game, nor did she understand completely why it felt like today was a day to pick on her. Ash crossed her arms as she walked the rest of the way home. She wore a pair of ripped jeans, red t-shirt and the locks of her blonde hair. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as her feet trudged through the soft soil up to the house. She was not a happy camper. The tomboy threw her hands up in the air and pretended to pull her hair out as she entered through the front door. It slammed, and she hadn't meant for it to.
"I will kill them." She grumbled, taking off her shoes near the door. They were covered in mud, and that was not the problem. The problem was her partners in her run that morning had gone off to play hide and seek, or at least, hide from Ash. She shook her head and stretched her shoulder. It was bleeding, which was no surprise. Ash had a small incident an hour prior to her return. She had tried to jump over a cliff, and she would have landed if something hadn't distracted her. It was a small snap of twig, a deer nonetheless and it caught her attention right away. She had glanced and lost her footing, fell, and her shoulder caught the edges of a rock.
The eighteen year old was a trooper, but the bleeding was beginning to make her irritable. This was not a good morning. She pulled off the outer layer of her shirt and underneath, she wore a black tank top, one that revealed her rather deep wound on her shoulder.