Sadrain
Resident ghost caracal
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#273
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December 13th, Chicago. Sewer #17, side branch A34. Evening.
"None of you see further than your own nose," Leila shrugged. "If it's not me, someone else would hand it to your little rebellion just a bit later. You all are just that meek." Although there was a chance he was right, Leila wasn't about to let Amante intimidate her. And, if they had placed a watch on her, here in this outpost, whole rebellion should be on her neck already, with all the information she had handed over, one way or another.
At his snappy remark, Leila's grin spread wider. That had hit a sore spot, apparently. And she was not of the mild, sweet people to step back out of courtesy. "Oh, what now? Got rejected, lover boy? I guess some girls still have senses these days." Leila words were in more poisonous tone than normally, because the images of Amante and someone else from her past kept overlapping. She would have the sense now, for sure. "I might learn to mind my own business if you do. How about showing me an example to follow by walking away, ey?"
Last edited by Sadrain; 07-03-2012 at 12:12 AM.
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Posted 07-03-2012, 12:10 AM
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