Thunder Dome Thymós

Headache!

Antigone squinted, features dismal, harsh. The girl did not falter when she’d answered. In fact, her face spoke of confidence. It reminded him of his father and his stomach twisted. She was young enough that there was a possibility of relation, but she lacked the warm colors of Tamar and Arsenio’s pelts.

And…?

Antigone’s voice did not lose its sharp edge. She tried to appeal to him with her youthful coyness. The red-hooded man was - mostly - immune to such efforts. Something about her struck him as being familiar. Something about the glitter of her eyes or the curve of her lips reminded him of…

Headache’s not all it’s good for. Just so you know.

A shrug of his shoulders and then, where’d you get it anyway?