Barrow Fields i would ask, almost insist, on treating you kind and fair

RONG LEVER!!!!!

There'd been a seismical shift in The Universe of Their Relationship. A rupture in their rapport. The internecine aftereffects of their "difference in opinion" on what qualified as acceptable compensation for her time transpired; the unitary voiding of trust on one side and for the other, the soul-sucking echo of something akin to post-traumatic stress. 

He'd returned to her at the crack of dawn, shrilly whining and slinking with tail clamped to his undersides and imploring a second chance at endearing her to him. By the time he'd reappeared, her temper had defrosted and the icy contour of her gaze diminished. However, in spite of her wary gift of absolution from his sin, he was a low priority and hanging by the black widow's diaphanous spider silk. 

Unknown to her he'd slipped away again the following afternoon to reconcile harmony with more desirable provisions. Lusca acknowledged his absence but neither repined nor concerned herself with it, instead brushing it off as flakiness with a shrug of disinterest and forging ahead with her day, hoping that somewhere along the beaten path which she walked was a felled deer or raccoon that had shuffled its mortal coil for the earth to regenerate for a better purpose as fertilizer. 

However, by evening, her suitor had made his way back with something cherished in his jowls. His tail flourished like a white flag over his back; he looked exceedingly pleased with himself, hoisting something hideous in her direction with his head aloft as if it were a cumbersome club. Perhaps he'd come back bearing a melee weapon with which he'd selected to whack her with. Unsurely, the waif withdrew, lifting a leg deftly to her breast, look upon her face reading pls no kill, am too pretty lady.

"What... is it that I am looking at?" she inquired hesitantly, a dubious edge to her voice. Unlike the night before, she did not react with vexation; simply curiosity, and slight disgust. It looked wet, probably with Tachyon's drool –– entirely unsavory.