"Oh..." Violette sat back on her heels with a slow exhalation of breath. She brushed some stray hairs from her forehead with the back of her hand, which held a small trowel. "Dear me," she breathed.
The weeds of her garden refused to leave without extreme persuasion. Violette took the difficulty in hand, doing her best to coax them out of the rich soil using both words and strength. The activity left her emerald skirt and pale green blouse dirt-stained, as well as dirtying her graceful hands and smudging her face. Unbeknownst to Violette, she looked as lovely and delicate covered with grime.
A caterpillar paused its journey along a leaf, and Violette smiled at it. "They don't cooperate much at all, do they? I want so much to have the garden perfect for sir Mystere's visit." She leaned toward the caterpillar as it stood up on its back portion. "Do you suppose he might come today," she asked, wide-eyed. "A hero must be quite busy rescuing damsels and fighting evil plots."
Violette giggled and sat back. "I know weeds aren't very evil, but it would be nice if he could come and rescue me from them."
She glanced over her shoulder with a hopeful expression, and then her lower lip protruded slightly. She sighed.
Violette focused her attention back on the caterpillar. "It seems I will need to pull them out myself."
And so she went back to work, humming and chatting with the caterpillar and a passing ladybug about her garden plans, the soon-to-be crafted bench, and the flowers that would be planted along the walkway within her garden.
All the while she conversed, she didn't notice the shadowy figure watching her from the corner of her garden nearest the house. Didn't notice the leering smirk as they adjusted their crossed arms. Didn't notice the wicked intent glistening within a darkened expression.
Violette had always been insulated from the horrors of the world, so the thought of someone deliberately causing harm to her because of her innocence... There was no thought. No fear. No hesitancy. Only encouragement of life. Of people. Of nature.
The shadow wanted that innocence for himself.
The shadow straightened, his arms lowering to his sides as the smirk slightly widened. He stepped forward, halting when a caped figure leaped from the house roof to block his path with grim and steady determination, sword drawn.
The shadowy figure scoffed, holding the fierce gaze without issue.
The caped figure lifted the sword tip and pressed it slightly against the man's throat.
The shadow's gaze examined the resolve within the caped figure's eyes before looking again to the lovely blonde woman kneeling so very few steps away, chatting and humming without a care-- The blade-tip bit into his skin, drawing the shadow's attention. He glowered.
Then the sword blade began to glow afire, scalding the shadowy figure's skin, and he backed off a step. He finally turned and disappeared into the darker shadows. The caped figure watched his escape with narrowed eyes before turning his focus to the nymph of the forest. A damsel never in distress.
The caped figure slightly smiled and then again disappeared into his surroundings; again taking his post as unknown Sentinel. Knight. Protector of the Innocent.