Overture Downs can't stand it

briggs’ ear flicked at the name. twitch.
he turned it over in his head, like a stone between his teeth, and came to the same conclusion he had the second she opened her mouth—weird fuckin’ kid.
twitch, he echoed, deadpan. what, you got somethin’ wrong with you?
he didn’t ask like he cared. just stated it, blunt as a blade, like he was trying to make sense of her existence.
his pace didn’t slow as the land dipped, though he did step where she stepped, careful over the mud—not because she had, but because he had no interest in slipping like some damn fool.
the meadow stretched before them, open and quiet.
fits, he muttered after a beat, though there was something almost begrudging about the way he said it. sharp. clipped. just like her.