Boartusk Heights Barn owl

Some days, she wondered how Vincent kept his lid on, how he kept that cool, calculated mockery so perfectly refined. She was so prone to that immediate fire, so easily tipped over the edge, much as she tried to control her anger some days. What blood had she been given that the others hadn't? Why did hers burn so hot? Ah, she'd play his game. The only thing that kept her cool was that hopeful wish that mother did really want to see her, and hopefully not because she wanted to yell at her. 

Maybe I could. I don't know that I want to, though. I could fall, climbing up those peaks. Nymphora looked back at her brother and matched his challenge. These two adults were about to be ordered back and forth by two children, funny how life worked sometimes. 

It will be necessary, Sirviente. She corrects with all the poise she can muster, a girlish hmph! as she raised her chin.