Marrin didn't take her threat the way she thought he would. She could see the shock in his eyes but after a moment it was replaced by an icy hardness. He gave her a curt reply and she felt like she'd won. The hunter knew that she was capable of it. The huntress had been more than willing to damage his shoulder so he must know that her words weren't an empty threat. However she wasn't the only one who could threaten.
His knife slammed point down into the table, its shiny edge menacing looking. He released it and left it vibrating in the tabletop. Her shock probably showed momentarily on her face but she purposefully wiped the expression away. Her eyes locked with his, narrowing, her nostrils flaring. So he was willing to hurt her too, was he? Well now the teen knew where she stood with her fellow hunter. He acted as if he wanted to be her friend but now he was showing his true colours that was clear.
His gaze was cold and hard as he glared back at her. He meant what he said, this person who wanted to be friendly with her, who wanted a fresh start with her. While she was willing to wipe the slate clean before, she could see that this start was no better than the first. Azira didn't see why she should even bother, after all the huntress wasn't the one who'd wanted to be friends with him. If they weren't friends, that was no loss to her.
She dropped her gaze when he did, glaring silently at the table in front of her as she tore at her hare. He'd taken his knife out of the table and she found herself staring at the deep mark where it had been driven in as she ripped angrily at the meat in her hands. Her threat had been a threat on his manhood and his pride but he had threatened her livelihood. She needed her bow to get food for the city. He'd be willing to sacrifice her kills just to protect his precious...
Petching bastard! she thought, throwing the remainder of the carcass in her soup bowl. She should have flung it at his head. Should have flung it in his soup, let the liquid splash over him. She could spit in it either but she wasn't going to be angry, no, she was going to control her temper.
"I'd like to remind you that I'm not the one seeking friendship here, you are," the young woman snapped, rising from her seat. "It's no skin off my teeth if you aren't my friend. Why would I even want that? Fine, threaten me if you like but do not threaten the welfare of my people! My fingers are more important than your petching manhood, not to mention your pride. Understand, half-breed?" She'd managed to work out that he must be of mixed blood. He had some Inartan blood in him in spite of the hair and she hoped that that fact stung.
Feeling satisfied, she left her bowl on the table, turned on her heel and strode away bringing her pack with her.
His knife slammed point down into the table, its shiny edge menacing looking. He released it and left it vibrating in the tabletop. Her shock probably showed momentarily on her face but she purposefully wiped the expression away. Her eyes locked with his, narrowing, her nostrils flaring. So he was willing to hurt her too, was he? Well now the teen knew where she stood with her fellow hunter. He acted as if he wanted to be her friend but now he was showing his true colours that was clear.
His gaze was cold and hard as he glared back at her. He meant what he said, this person who wanted to be friendly with her, who wanted a fresh start with her. While she was willing to wipe the slate clean before, she could see that this start was no better than the first. Azira didn't see why she should even bother, after all the huntress wasn't the one who'd wanted to be friends with him. If they weren't friends, that was no loss to her.
She dropped her gaze when he did, glaring silently at the table in front of her as she tore at her hare. He'd taken his knife out of the table and she found herself staring at the deep mark where it had been driven in as she ripped angrily at the meat in her hands. Her threat had been a threat on his manhood and his pride but he had threatened her livelihood. She needed her bow to get food for the city. He'd be willing to sacrifice her kills just to protect his precious...
Petching bastard! she thought, throwing the remainder of the carcass in her soup bowl. She should have flung it at his head. Should have flung it in his soup, let the liquid splash over him. She could spit in it either but she wasn't going to be angry, no, she was going to control her temper.
"I'd like to remind you that I'm not the one seeking friendship here, you are," the young woman snapped, rising from her seat. "It's no skin off my teeth if you aren't my friend. Why would I even want that? Fine, threaten me if you like but do not threaten the welfare of my people! My fingers are more important than your petching manhood, not to mention your pride. Understand, half-breed?" She'd managed to work out that he must be of mixed blood. He had some Inartan blood in him in spite of the hair and she hoped that that fact stung.
Feeling satisfied, she left her bowl on the table, turned on her heel and strode away bringing her pack with her.
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