And there it was. He almost hit someone else instead of what he thought was there. The figures were starting to get to him. One moment he thought it was something following him the next it was the red headed woman standing there holding his knife.

He knew she was here.

He had seen her around several times now.

He was avoiding her as well as he had tried to avoid Rogers. This one though, there were faint memories of red and her in his mind. He wasn't sure on her at all.

He stepped forward, flesh hand held out, eyes scowling a bit, as if asking for his knife back. "I am not as cold as you might think I am. No, this is not me." He's feeling the freeze again and he doesn't like it.