Swiftcurrent Creek We are not the same, with or without

She didn't rise to the words.  At one time, Kiwi might have been annoyed.  Right now, though, she'd been alone long enough that even this woman's misery brought her some measure of contentment.  If she was already broken, then she was worse off than Kiwi.  And any measure by which another came up short served to lift her further.

Something that obvious?  She lifted herself a bit taller, though their smaller statures were fairly well matched.  It was odd to come face to face with someone who she didn't need to look up to in some capacity.  Hardly.  She added a bit of a scoff to that.

She sensed weakness, and anytime Kiwi caught a whiff of it, she couldn't help but lunge for it.  It was a trait that had developed over the course of her time, and now that she was alone, it had increased exponentially.  Something was wrong with her and Kiwi couldn't fight the overwhelming desire to tear away, piece by piece, until she'd exposed it.  If physical comments weren't it, then she'd go for something else.  I'm not the one walking around with their nose in the ground.  If you're looking to get eaten, I could find you a bear or something.  I don't eat shit, but bears don't seem to mind.  

Kiwi would no doubt get bored pretty quickly if Wylla did not rejoin with an insult of her own, but punching down was so satisfying.  It showed through in her tone, just a tidge, and she waited with a glimmer of anticipation for the reaction she'd recieve.