Sunset Valley i make the money, not wash the clothes.

He unfurled, and the head came free. She saw it and a dangerous light flashed across her iris; a rage she'd kept contained was now sparking to life, but the trade was made. He took the snake, and she hurried to the rabbit's skull to tend to it as if it were alive.

Gathering it to herself, she hunched over it and arranged, groomed, tidied, trying to make it right. Colt said something about rats, birds, she wasn't listening — fully involved with the head that had quickly become extremely precious to her.

Her heart was racing and she didn't know why. She couldn't look at Colt. Her lavishing of attention upon the rabbit's ears became roughened, rather than softening her as it should have. It was a comforting gesture she sought. Instead, Indra felt unhinged as she wallowed in anger.