[Not making comments is difficult, and his eyes keep roving over her with the low-burn suspicion of someone who expects a slip-up. Her own scrutiny is received with a careless upward jerk of the chin, a minute and casual challenge. He is thin and bedraggled and looks younger than his age, but a lifetime of violence has left a confidence in his hold of his weapon, as though even the makeshift spear is already an extension of his arm.
Stay out of the way, she says. His jaw tightens a little as he slips into step next to her. He shouldn't get angry at a very familiar comment, but the hunger makes it difficult.]
I know how to track and hunt, [he says in a low voice.] I'm not a pup following your for scraps, doma.
no subject
Stay out of the way, she says. His jaw tightens a little as he slips into step next to her. He shouldn't get angry at a very familiar comment, but the hunger makes it difficult.]
I know how to track and hunt, [he says in a low voice.] I'm not a pup following your for scraps, doma.