Redhawk Caldera Than lying at the sharp end of this knife

Fennec's posture showed disdain and Niamh eyed her with beligerent disbelief when she uttered a demand that had nothing whatsoever to do with the welfare of her son and daughter. Niamh exhaled sharply and began to pace, an attempt at trying to shirk the tension that had crept into her muscles. She flicked her head to one side and then to the other, cracking it audibly on each side. 

"Jesus H. Grapes, Fennec," she scolded. "Come barging to my den yellin' like that I thought you were going to tell me my children were dying." She growled. Fennec's demand for fighting lessons sat on the shelf for a few moments longer; she was too pissed off that she'd been awakened so suddenly for something that was a non-urgent request. "Don't ever scare me like that again. How are they?" She asked, intending in part to punish Fennec for her scare by refusing to acknowledge her request for the time being.