Heron Lake Plateau I spat on you when you called me a dog

Sorina pushed and pushed and pushed—until, finally, there was no longer any weight behind her words. Her shouts delivered not a single blow, her presence not the least bit threatening—she was just some random girl shouting at a boy she barely knew, demanding obedience. But his words did not shut her down, not entirely. In all actuality, it was perhaps the fact that he responded at all that made her patience snap, fury igniting and tongue ready to cut him down.

“You haven’t done anything?!” she mocked, disbelief evident in her tone. “You—you did something! You did something and then you just left, like it was nothing!” Yeah, she was still hung up on that. “You have to listen to me after that—you owe me at least that, for what you did.” And didn’t do, really. That he had no respect for her, however, struck her harshly and made her fall silent, if only for a moment. “You have to respect me,” she decided. “After what—after what you did, you have to! That’s how it works, that’s… that’s how things are supposed to be.” It made sense to her, at least. “So just—just listen to me! For once—just once—just listen to me…” Alright, Sorina, pleading is pretty pathetic. She did nothing to hide her emotions from either her voice or expression, letting it all linger out in the open, a book so easily read.

Again, he tried to order her around and threaten her, but she didn’t give in. “I’m not leaving,” she stated, bracing herself for his next hit, should it happen again. Her ears flicked back, briefly, when he bared his teeth, but were quick to pop right back up just a second later; she wasn’t going to let him push her around or tell her what to do, she couldn’t.