Lion Head Mesa Rules were meant to be pushed and pulled

if she had any hope, it was dashed by his next words; relmyna wilted from the boy, her shambling gait shifting her to one side as he drew closer. yet, let him look — it did not hurt him to gaze upon her twisted scars and torn lip, her thin bones and decrepit pelt. he himself was handsome, hale in his youth. he had not meant to speak so hurtfully, and yet the tyro did not know if it was hurt she felt. she longed simply to leave this place, and never return, but not until he'd had his fill of observation.