Sun Mote Copse Candy-colored fingers and schadenfreude eyes

The encounter with his aunt had left him with excess nervous energy. There was a bitter taste at the back of his mouth, the kind of heart burn effect after too much running, which he tried to alleviate by crushing thick pads of grass between his molars.

After tugging a few clutches of green free and chewing them beyond the chlorophyll taste, Reyes spits. He looks like a cowboy having ridden a horse for too long, his limbs stiff, his neck and shoulders tight - probably sporting a few bruises from Niamh, actually.

Fucking bitch, comin' at me like that... Reyes comments under his breath, feeling the all too familiar itch of his anger just beneath his skin. It had been smart to pull himself away from Towhee and the boy; he couldn't trust himself in this state.