Barrow Fields just one moment of peace, that would suit me so fine

last post from me. archiving.

"You proposed the deal expecting too much. That's on you. You also said "anything and everything". I gave you anything and everything I had. What I haven't given you is a reason to keep calling me a liar. But hey, that's also on, oh, right––you." She sourly pinpointed this other woman's presumptuous arrogance, narrowing her eyes to slits with disdain glistering therein. Maybe that was Lusca's error––hammering out deals with perfect strangers, again. Except unlike Tachyon, and herself for that matter, Capriccio hadn't even put in an effort of good faith, and one riding at the helm of a bullet's mistrust should not aim so indiscriminately if they didn't want a rain of crossfire. 

She'd conveniently remitted her one desperate lie of motherhood to oblivion already, and hey, if the loner wanted an exhaustive delineation of her surroundings she might have first considered consulting with someone with the job description––not Johnny-come-lately who had been self-described as "not of much use." Perhaps someone from Dora's backpack?

The silver-caped female swept to her feet with the rabbit of contention betwixt her teeth and forged a nimble path in the opposite direction, visibly tense. Rolling her eyes, Luc scoffed and whispered amidst the privacy of her breath's reach, "stuck-up bitch." Before turning on the incurve of her heel to scamper across the treeline's threshold.