Lion Head Mesa needy boy speeding off in a limo stretch

Unlike the first tongue she used, the second was quite different and somehow also unintelligible to him. It was of some similar make to the language of mountains, but it flowed like water from her—no, like wind. Blustering.

He spat at the earth and pivoted; and when she drew closer he moved to keep a sight-line of her. There was something being offered here and the boy could assume what based on her posturing; the look in her eyes.

Drusk had never had a woman. As much as he threatened, he was still only a boy. Raised harshly yes, and among terrible men, but still only a boy himself. A lewd stare accompanies his defiance as he drinks in the look of the woman.