gentle arrogance ; a practiced twist of lips in amusement && the woman watches him with certainty before she speaks . a spoken WARNING that does so little to inspire , a flex of her fingers && she’s leaning f o r w a r d s . ❝ or what ?? ❞ it is reckless && she feels vague concern churn within her stomach ; but for a single moment she does not care , for what does she have to fear now ?? a woman built upon TARNISHED shores , toppled from her kingdom with blood on her hands && face , no she does not FEAR much these days . ❝ you do not hold COMMAND over me , do not think yourself possible . ❞
he cracks a smile, feather-there, eyes on what he’s doing. the forestock is pulled back firmly, ejecting an empty shell from its chamber. he breaks open the firearm, reloading the chamber, keeping totally at ease despite the climbing unpredictability and erraticism of the situation. her words encourage the part of lips, the break of a sported exhale. cute. the barrel snaps shut with a powerful, almost bloodthirsty, click.
‘ or i unload this remington the way it was meant to be unloaded. now i don’t know about you, but a simple warning doesn’t quite resonate as a command t’me. but hey, then again, what do i know? people don’t find it easy tellin’ me what to do. ’ pretty sure it’s a different case for her. and despite such polite, threatening statements, my voice lacks malice. should be a clear enough indicator that she’s the obstacle, not the target.