I’m
less than surprised
that someone saw me coming in and alerted her. Shifting the nice bags over an arm, I raise my chin and look coolly at the same auburn haired werewolf who made my visit
unpleasant
the last time.
> At least her type is easy enough to deal with. I know everything is an attack. Probably accurate. She seems to love interpersonal entertainment. Maybe she’ll leave us alone permanently if she decides I’m not interesting enough. On all counts. Including that I’m *not* pregnant. She doesn’t know anything. She’s fishing. Neither did I. My chest still hurts. I still want to find a cave and cry. But I’m not done. I’m angry and disgusted too. With no one good to aim it at. <
"Actually, how often does Ms. Whitecrest get invited to private dinners with the most important person in the city, I wonder? You’re such an important person yourself, right? Must be nice to have such direct access all the time. I really am jealous."
The barb hit home as I smirked
without any innocence
. While my heart had
cracked
, I’d never really given anything away. But I can see hers open right up and reveal the
fury
underneath.
"You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. Know your place, rogue."
Glowing orange eyes and
canines a bit too large
are there as she starts to talk, but she
hissed
low enough that the seamstress couldn’t hear. Matching her tone, but with more
control
over my anger than she has, I re-shifted the bags on my arm.
"Get back to... whatever it is you do here. Maintenance treatments, was it? They really have their work cut out for them."
I walked away before she could respond or sputter, but I could
feel her glare burning into my back
with every step. Not my
finest
reason to ever smile, but the
only
one I had at the moment.