Firefly Glen The Witching Hour

Follow me. He mocked in her words with the same breathlessness she had before, flapping his lashes to nail his point home. Chose your words more carefully and perhaps it wouldn't happen. He spat, making his own way away from the woman. He had every right to believe that was her intention. Beginning their conversation with how much she hated the nightwalkers and their leader, how she didn't want to lead them despite disliking their warlord, to play by her own rules - shit, did she think that wouldn't come across a certain way?

Leaving with a bad taste in his mouth, the man was off on his own little adventure.