Porcupine Ridge I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

How cruel..She feigns insult with an exaggerated gasp, no shortage of dramatics spared in this brief display, her head cast off to the side before it'd snap back, a little snicker released. Well- I'm sure could take em' anyways. She'd shrug.

Probably not.

But she had got his agreement! The theory didn't need to be tested.

But her? Keep anybody out of trouble? Not likely. The wretch was a magnet for misventure, drawn in easily, a moth swallowed by the sun, sated by it and burned all in one.

Compelled to it. They were like to be a terrible duo.

Oh? Do you really run into trouble so often? She'd inquire curiously, taking the lead and assuming a casual pace; calculated steps brought them down lightly-trodden trails, hawkish eyes surveyed the undergrowth. It felt easier now than it had before. An impish glimmer danced in her eyes, held a curious mischief as she halted to glimpse back, head crooked, always crooked. What sort?