Cricket Creek Bog war tongues flickered about that dirty old church mouth

Once the male was in Queenie's view, he was recognized immediately. This was the same brute from before who had allowed himself to be maimed, expecting pity from the mercenary as a result. The entire thing had either meant that he was one hell of a con, or a truly deranged and defenseless lug. One was certainly more respectable than the other, though it stirred up more wariness.

After thinking a moment, Queenie decided that she ought to speak. You heal up yet? she called with a half-glare.